Ui. 


i  ARCHIBALD 
SMITH 


fyiAfcit;  Ttt/.  J£u>£&L_^ 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


PRESENTED  BY 

PROF.  CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 
MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


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PKONKS    AT    HACANUCHI   (page  230) 


UNDER  THE  CACTUS 
FLAG 

A  STORY  OF  LIFE  IN  MEXICO 


BY 


NORA   ARCHIBALD   SMITH 

Author  of  "  The  Children  of  the  Future  ;  "  joint  author  with  Kate 

Douglas  Wiggin  of  "  The  Republic  of  Childhood," 

"  The  Story  Hour,"  and  "  Children's  Eights.'11 


BOSTON    AND   NEW   YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY 


1899 


COPYRIGHT,  1890.  BY  NORA  A.  SMITH 
ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


5 


CONTENTS 

CHAP.  PAGE 

I.  IN  THE  DARK 1 

II.   A  LIGHT  APPEARS 10 

III.  "  ONE    TO    MAKE     READY,   AND     TWO    TO 
PREPARE  " 22 

IV.  ON  THE  FRONTIER 29 

V.  AN  ARIZONA  STAGE  RIDE   ...  44 

VI.  A  BREATHING  SPACE        .        .        .        .61 

VII.   Ho,  FOR  CERITAS  !  78 

VIII.   FIRST  IMPRESSIONS 93 

IX.   A  YOUTHFUL  TEACHER        ...  108 

X.   A  CHRISTMAS  FESTIVAL   ....  125 

XL  "LA  NOCHE  BUENA"  ....  142 

XII.   THE  COMING  OF  SPRING  ....  154 

XIII.  RUMORS  OF  WAR 170 

XIV.  MANY  SORROWS 188 

XV.   A  BEDQUILT  THERMOMETER  AND  OTHER 

MATTERS 207 

XVI.   BACANUCHI 223 

XVII.   MOONLIGHT  AND  STORY-TELLING         .  239 

XVIII.   MIDSUMMER  DAYS 254 

XIX.   "  ADIOS  !     HASTA  LA  VISTA  !  "  268 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


FACING 
PAGE 


PEONES  AT  BACANUCHI  (page  230) .     Frontispiece 

STREET  SCENE  IN  CERITAS 72 

OUTSKIRTS  OF  CERITAS 90 

THE  SELLER  OF  OLLAS 106 

PEDRO  AND  LAURO 118 

A  BAKER'S  BOY 144 

WASHERWOMEN  AT  BACANUCHI 230 

OX-CART  WITH  AZABACHE  AND  COPETON      .    ,    ,  236 


UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 


CHAPTER   I. 

IN    THE    DARK. 

IN  the  quiet  town  of  Corona,  far  to  the 
south  of  the  great  western  State  that  basks 
along  the  warm  Pacific  shores,  lived  little 
Mary  Annesley.  She  was  barely  sixteen 
when  this  chapter  of  her  story  opens,  and 
whatever  might  have  been  said  of  her  after 
wards,  she  would  scarcely  at  that  time  have 
been  selected  as  a  heroine  of  romance. 

Her  tresses,  when  unbound,  lacked  much 
of  sweeping  the  ground  ;  her  eyes  were  not 
of  the  kind  that  dazzle  the  beholder  with 
their  brilliancy ;  nobody  had  yet  likened 
the  pose  of  her  figure  to  the  sway  of  a  lily 
on  its  stalk,  and  her  entrance  into  crowded 
assemblies  had  never,  so  far,  provoked  gen 
eral  murmurs  of  admiration. 

As  for  her  mental  jewels,  she  could  cer 
tainly  not  "  jest  in  ancient  Greek,"  and  it 


2  UNDER  THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

is  doubtful  if  at  any  age  she  could  have 
written,  as  did  a  sweet  girl  graduate  the 
other  day,  a  paper  on  "  Singular  Solutions 
of  Differential  Equations  of  the  First  Order 
in  Two  Variants,  and  the  Geometrical  Pro 
perties  of  Certain  Invariants,  and  Co-Vari 
ants  of  their  Complete  Privitives." 

Yet  Mary  was  a  bright  girl  and  a  good 
student,  with  a  very  pretty  taste  for  music 
and  an  unusual  proficiency,  for  her  age,  in 
modern  languages  ;  and  as  for  her  personal 
appearance,  if  she  had  not  the  charms  of 
the  ladies  fair  of  romance  and  chivalry,  she 
had  at  least  a  straight  nose,  a  sweet,  wild- 
rose  color,  and  brown  hair  with  so  satisfac 
tory  a  natural  wave  that  it  put  to  shame 
the  product  of  the  curling-iron. 

Mary  was  an  orphan,  yet  even  here  she 
cannot  pose  as  a  heroine  in  distress,  for  her 
parents  had  died  in  her  early  infancy  and 
she  had  ever  since  been  the  welcome  charge 
of  her  aunt  and  uncle,  the  Moores  of  Glen 
Ellen,  near  Corona.  Under  the  friendly 
shelter  of  their  roof  and  in  the  companion 
ship  of  her  cousin  Celia,  she  had  never 
known  a  day's  unhappiness,  never  felt  the 
cold  breath  of  anxiety,  until  a  year  before, 
the  kindly,  happy  household  had  suddenly 


IN  THE  DARK  3 

been  called  to  go  down  into  the  Valley  of 
the  Shadow  with  dear  uncle  Bertram.  It 
was  a  year  ago,  —  his  grave  had  long  been 
green  with  softest  grass  and  wreathed  with 
trailing  vines  ;  but  the  little  family  at  Glen 
Ellen  still  missed  as  sorely  every  day  his 
quick  step,  his  hearty  voice,  his  kindly  smile 
and  helpful  hand-clasp. 

Not  only  so,  but  the  three  women  desper 
ately  needed  his  wise  counsel  and  his  strong 
grasp  of  affairs,  for  their  business  matters, 
as  soon  as  he  left  them,  had  straightway 
fallen  into  wild  confusion,  and  everybody 
employed  to  untangle  the  skein  seemed  but 
to  succeed  in  knotting  it  more  tightly. 

Mrs.  Moore,  who  was  a  semi-invalid,  and 
for  whose  sake  they  had  come  to  California, 
had  not  been  well  enough  for  years  to  set 
herself  to  the  task  of  understanding  the 
various  investments  her  husband  had  made  ; 
the  girls  were  too  young  to  realize  anything 
about  money,  save  that  they  had  always 
had  enough  for  their  simple  wants,  and  in 
fact,  and  very  naturally  too,  Mr.  Moore 
had  always  been  Secretary  of  the  Treasury, 
Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  Keeper  of  the 
Purse,  Financial  Agent,  and  General  Busi 
ness  Manager  of  the  family  at  Glen  Ellen. 


4  UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

No  sooner  was  he  taken  away,  than  every 
investment  that  had  ever  been  valuable 
stopped  paying  dividends  with  lightning 
rapidity,  while  large  assessments  were  levied 
on  stocks  and  bonds  that,  if  not  profitable 
in  Mr.  Moore's  lifetime,  had  at  least  re 
mained  at  par.  The  sheep  on  the  great 
ranch  in  the  San  Kamon  mountains  were 
seized  with  disease,  scale  appeared  on  the 
orange-trees,  no  purchaser  could  be  found 
for  any  property,  far  or  near,  and  Mrs. 
Moore  might  well  have  been  pardoned  if 
she  had  considered  herself  a  modern  coun 
terpart  of  Job. 

Everything  had  been  done  of  course  to 
lighten  the  household  ship  in  this  stress 
of  weather ;  servants  had  been  dismissed, 
horses  and  carriages  sold,  Mary  and  Celia 
had  been  cooks  and  housemaids  for  some 
months,  but  still  the  situation  grew  more 
hopeless. 

One  evening,  when  the  last  post  had 
brought  a  gloomy  letter  from  the  foreman 
of  the  ranch,  the  tradesmen's  monthly  ac 
counts,  a  notice  that  the  taxes  were  due, 
and  a  colossal  bill  from  the  Los  Angeles 
agent,  Mary,  with  a  determined  look  in  her 
girlish  face,  knocked  at  the  Dutch  door, 


IN   THE   DARK  5 

cleft  horizontally,  that  divided  her  own  from 
Celia's  room. 

"  Come  in  !  "  called  a  voice  from  the  win 
dow,  and  Mary,  entering,  candle  in  hand, 
saw  her  cousin  curled  up  in  a  great  arm 
chair,  gazing  with  suspiciously  wet  eyes  on 
the  moonlit  garden. 

"Dear  old  Celia  !  "  exclaimed  Mary  hur 
riedly,  setting  down  the  candle  and  rushing 
to  take  the  pretty  head  on  her  shoulder  ; 
"  what  made  you  begin  to  cry  till  I  came  ? 
I  could  have  wept  a  flood  of  tears  any  time 
this  evening,  but  I  did  n't  mean  to  let  auntie 
see  I  was  down-hearted,  and  I  counted  on 
mingling  my  griefs  with  yours  as  soon  as 
we  came  upstairs." 

"Oh,  Mollie,"  sobbed  Celia,  "how  dis 
couraging  everything  looks.  What  in  the 
world  is  to  become  of  us  ?  " 

"  Just  what  I  came  in  to  ask  you,"  said 
Mary,  half  laughing ;  "  but  really  I  've  been 
thinking  seriously  for  a  week,  dear,  and  I 
see  that  something  must  be  done,  though 
I  'm  sure  I  don't  know  what.  When  the 
bill  came  to-night  from  that  Los  Angeles 
pirate,  —  for  he  is  one,  if  he  does  n't  cruise 
the  high  seas,  —  I  made  up  my  mind  it  was 
time  for  desperate  remedies.  We  've  been 


6  UNDER  THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

pumping  water  out  of  this  sinking  ship  long 
enough,  and  the  time  has  come  to  get  her  to 
land  somehow.  In  other  words,  aunt  Ellen 
has  n't  any  money,  there  is  no  prospect  of 
her  having  any  for  ages,  and  you  and  I 
must  just  set  to  work  to  earn  some." 

These  words  of  wisdom,  punctuated  by 
Mary  with  sympathizing  kisses  on  the  pale 
cheek  resting  against  her  shoulder,  were 
heard  by  her  cousin  with  some  amazement. 

"  But  Molliekin,"  she  exclaimed,  "  what 
do  we  know  how  to  do?  Of  course  I  can 
embroider  and  paint  a  little,  but  it  would  n't 
take  us  long  to  starve  on  the  prices  you 
can  get  for  even  the  best  fancy-work.  I  've 
learned  how  to  cook  pretty  well,  too,  in  the 
last  few  months,  but  if  I  go  out  to  service 
what  becomes  of  poor  mother  ?  " 

"  You  out  to  service  !  "  cried  Mollie  dis 
dainfully.  "  A  pretty  cook  you  'd  make, 
too  pretty  by  far,  for  the  matter  of  that. 
But  what  I  Ve  been  thinking  of  is  this.  I 
met  somebody  in  town  this  morning,  —  I 
forget  now  who  it  was,  who  told  me  Miss 
Barton  wanted  another  assistant  for  her 
decorating.  You  know  you  've  helped  her 
with  the  flowers  two  or  three  times  when 
she  was  crowded  with  orders,  and  she  has 


IN  THE   DARK  7 

been  enthusiastic  ever  since  over  your  4  fairy 
fingers,'  as  she  calls  them.  I  believe  the 
way  to  success  is  open  for  you  there,  dearie, 
and  Miss  Barton  would  give  a  little  salary 
from  the  beginning,  I  'm  sure." 

"  Perhaps  so,"  said  her  cousin  half  doubt 
fully.  "  Anyway  it 's  work  I  should  thor 
oughly  enjoy,  and  it 's  just  like  your  energy 
to  think  first  of  bringing  grist  to  the  mill. 
I  'm  two  years  older  than  you  and  I  ought 
to  have  taken  the  initiative,  but  somehow 
my  mind  won't  hold  a  thought  of  anything 
but  mother  now.  I  watch  her  patient  face 
hour  by  hour,  and  spend  all  my  energies  in 
trying  to  make  up  to  her  part  of  what  she 
has  lost,  and  when  the  day  is  over  I  don't 
seem  to  have  strength  for  original  ideas. 
But  what  do  you  propose  for  yourself,  little 
cousin  ?  " 

"  Well,  various  careers  have  suggested 
themselves  to  me  in  the  night  watches," 
answered  Mary  gravely.  "  I  have  thought 
of  being  matron  of  an  orphan  asylum,  but 
there  my  comparative  youth  is  against  me. 
...  I  have  thought  of  the  stage,  but  I  have 
so  little  dramatic  ability,  ...  and  I  can 
scarcely  be  President  of  a  Woman's  Col 
lege,  as  yet,  anyway.  ...  I  might  get  a 


8  UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

position  as  stewardess  on  one  of  the  coast 
steamers,  or  I  might  even  be  a  music  teacher 
for  young  fry,  were  there  not  already  at 
least  a  score  of  the  unfortunates  starving 
in  Corona  and  its  suburbs." 

"What  is  the  decision  then?"  asked 
Celia,  who  had  lifted  her  head  again,  some 
what  diverted  by  her  cousin's  nonsense. 
"  What  are  you  going  to  try  ?  " 

"I  really  believe  languages  will  be  my 
refuge.  I  could  teach  Spanish  and  French 
to  beginners  fairly  well.  Professor  Le- 
maitre  thinks  I  have  a  good  accent  in  both, 
you  know,  and  Mrs.  Gardiner  said  not  long 
ago  she  wished  I  'd  give  the  twins  conversa 
tion  lessons  in  Spanish.  I  don't  know.  .  .  . 
Neither  of  us  seems  very  useful,  considering 
the  amount  of  money  spent  on  our  educa 
tion,  but  I  'm  perfectly  well  and  you  can  do 
a  good  deal  if  you  're  careful,  and  it  will  be 
a  strange  thing  if  we  can't  support  this 
small  family  between  us." 

"  It  does  seem  as  if  we  might,  and  you  're 
a  dear  little  comforter,"  agreed  Celia ;  "  but 
we  '11  talk  it  all  over  with  mother  in  the 
morning.  A  spark  of  courage  seems  to 
have  warmed  my  breast  since  you  came  in 
with  your  candle.  But  listen,  there  's  the 


IN  THE   DARK  9 

midnight  bell.  Who  is  to  get  breakfast  if 
we  oversleep?  Fly,  Mollie,  like  an  angel 
as  you  are,  and  give  that  brain  of  yours  a 
little  rest." 

There  were  light  footfalls  in  both  rooms 
for  a  few  moments,  a  rustle  of  draperies, 
the  gentle  closing  of  blinds  and  opening 
of  windows,  and  soon  a  white-robed  figure, 
with  a  wavy  brown  head  atop,  leaned  over 
the  half-door,  calling  softly,  - 

"  Good-night,  ma'mselle  the  art  deco 
rator  ! " 

"  Good-night,  Professor  of  Modern  Lan 
guages,"  returned  Celia.  "  Bon  soir !  Schlaf 
wohl !  Dormi  felice  !  Duerme  bien  !  " 


CHAPTER   II. 

A    LIGHT    APPEARS. 

IN  spite  of  the  midnight  conference,  the 
young  housekeepers  were  early  astir,  and  by 
nine  o'clock  everything  at  the  cottage  was 
in  fairest  order,  and  Mrs.  Moore  installed  in 
the  rose-room  with  her  books  and  her  sew 
ing. 

Mary  delegated  to  her  cousin  the  office 
of  communicating  to  the  head  of  the  family 
the  important  decision  made  the  previous 
night,  and,  basket  in  hand,  set  out  for  Co 
rona  with  the  double  purpose  of  getting  the 
morning's  mail,  and  of  finding  something 
both  cheap  and  toothsome  for  dinner. 

As  for  the  mail,  it  seldom  held  anything 
nowadays  save  troubles  and  anxieties,  with 
perhaps  an  occasional  letter  from  an  amiable 
relative,  hoping  that  "  dear  Ellen  was  bet 
ter,"  and  that  "their  cloud  of  adversity 
would  soon  show  its  silver  lining."  Still, 
even  troublesome  letters  have  to  be  read, 
and  a  walk  to  the  Corona  post-office  twice  a 


A  LIGHT  APPEARS  11 

day  was  part  of  life's  routine  for  the  two 
girls. 

It  was  a  late  autumn  morning,  but  sea 
sons  are  so  little  noted  in  Southern  Califor 
nia  that  it  might  have  been  springtime,  or 
midsummer,  or  midwinter,  for  that  matter, 
save  that  the  road  was  dusty  and  the  wild 
flowers  not  in  bloom.  Carnations  and  roses 
and  heliotropes  and  fuchsias  were  blossom 
ing  in  every  garden,  the  lawns  were  fresh 
and  green,  and  the  only  hint  of  the  close  of 
the  year  lay  in  the  size  and  color  of  the 
ripening  fruit  on  the  boughs  that  shaded 
the  sidewalk. 

Mary  paid  little  heed  to  any  of  these 
things,  nor  even  to  the  morning  bloom  on 
her  beloved  San  Ramon  mountains ;  she 
walked  with  a  quick  step,  and  her  gaze  was 
turned  inward,  facing  for  the  first  time  a 
few  of  life's  difficult  problems. 

She  passed  the  Gardiner  twins,  but  re 
garded  them  with  so  cool  and  speculative  an 
eye,  as  if  measuring  their  aptitude  for  con 
jugating  verbs,  or  something  of  that  nature, 
that  the  commonly  irrepressible  youngsters 
hung  back  a  little,  and  refrained  from  pre 
cipitating  themselves  upon  her  as  usual. 
She  crossed  the  road  in  front  of  the  semi- 


12  UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

nary,  to  gaze  upon  that  august  building  and 
wonder  how  she  would  look,  in  twenty  years 
or  so,  throned  in  Professor  Lemaitre's  chair, 
with  a  pair  of  spectacles  on  her  nose. 

She  visited  the  market  as  in  a  dream, 
confused  herself  by  saying  Bon  jour  to  the 
butcher,  and  displayed  much  less  than  her 
ordinary  ability  in  doing  the  day's  purvey 
ing.  Probably  she  visited  the  post-office 
afterwards,  but  she  did  not  recall  having 
done  so,  till  on  the  homeward  road,  while 
she  was  receiving  the  plaudits  of  Corona  on 
the  success  of  a  French  comedy  given  by 
her  future  pupils,  she  caught  her  foot  in 
a  loose  board  of  the  sidewalk,  stumbled, 
dropped  her  basket,  and  saw  a  shower  of 
letters  scattered  on  the  ground. 

As  she  picked  them  up,  she  noticed  that 
one  was  addressed  to  her  in  Miss  Barbara's 
handwriting,  —  beloved  Miss  Barbara,  who 
had  been  her  Spanish  teacher,  and  who  had 
married  and  left  Corona  the  year  before. 
No,  she  could  n't  wait  until  she  got  home, 
she  must  open  it  now ;  and  she  sauntered 
along  the  sunny  walk,  dappled  with  the  myr 
iad  leaf-shadows  above,  and  read  as  she 
walked. 

The  first   page  made   her    breath    come 


A  LIGHT  APPEARS  13 

more  quickly  ;  at  the  second,  her  color  rose 
and  her  eyes  dilated,  and  at  the  third,  she 
hurriedly  sat  down  on  the  church  steps  with 
an  air  as  of  one  who  might  have  dropped 
in  the  road,  had  no  support  been  forth 
coming.  She  read  the  letter  once,  she  read 
it  twice,  and  after  the  third  reading  grasped 
her  basket  and  skimmed  along  her  home 
ward  way  like  a  lapwing,  or  rather,  like 
that  more  ordinary  bird,  the  road  runner. 

Yet  as  she  gained  the  hedge  of  Osage 
oranges  that  guarded  Glen  Ellen,  she  slack 
ened  her  pace,  for  sudden  shocks  were  dan 
gerous  to  her  aunt,  walked  soberly  down 
the  garden  path,  hung  up  her  hat,  smoothed 
her  hair  a  little,  and  sought  the  rose-room. 
Aunt  Ellen  was  there,  but  her  work  had 
dropped  in  her  lap,  and  her  eyes  were  fixed 
upon  the  distant  mountains  as  if  seeking 
there  her  help.  She  held  out  her  hand  for 
the  letters  and  papers,  but  heard  as  she  did 
so,  Mary's  slightly  panting  breath,  and  saw 
the  high  color  in  her  cheeks. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  child  ?  "  she  cried, 
paling  in  an  instant.  "  Has  anything  new 
happened  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  dearest  auntie,"  answered  Mary 
caressingly,  "or  at  least  only  something 


14  UNDER  THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

good.  I  've  had  rather  a  wonderful  letter. 
Where  is  Celia?  I  want  to  read  it  aloud." 

"  In  the  kitchen,  I  think.  You  were  gone 
rather  longer  than  usual,  and  I  believe  she 
is  doing  something  for  dinner." 

"  Celia,  Celia,"  called  Mary's  fresh  young 
voice.  "  Come  in  here !  I  want  to  read 
you  a  letter." 

"  Coming,"  sounded  from  the  rear  of  the 
house,  and  in  a  moment  the  stately  Celia 
appeared,  gowned  in  gingham  and  a  sleeved 
apron,  and  bearing  a  pan  of  potatoes  she 
was  peeling. 

She  took  a  high-backed  chair,  with  that 
Windsor  Castle  air  of  hers,  as  Mary  always 
called  it,  and  going  on  with  her  prosaic  occu 
pation  much  as  if  she  had  been  a  princess 
at  her  embroidery  frame,  said  composedly,  — 

"  Well,  Mollie,  here  I  am.  What 's  the 
news  ?  Do  they  want  you  to  take  a  chair 
at  the  State  University  ?  " 

"  No,  not  yet,"  answered  Mary  modestly, 
"  but  I  've  had  a  remarkable  letter  from 
Miss  Barbara,  and  it  seems  more  remark 
able  still,  when  you  think  of  our  conference 
last  night." 

"Miss  Barbara,"  said  Mrs.  Moore 
vaguely ;  "  I  thought  she  was  married  a  year 
ago  and  went  to  Mexico  to  live." 


A  LIGHT  APPEARS  15 

"  So  she  was,  so  she  did,"  explained 
Mary.  "  She  is  n't  Miss  Barbara  now,  of 
course ;  she 's  Mrs.  Vazquez,  but  I  never 
can  remember  to  call  her  so.  No  matter, 
anyway.  You  know  whom  I  mean.  — 
Well,  it 's  no  use  trying  to  break  it  to  you 
gently  —  she  wants  me  to  come  to  Mexico, 
to  Ceritas,  where  she  lives,  and  teach  a  pri 
vate  school,  and  at  a  good  salary  too !  " 

"  Mexico !  "  cried  princess  Celia,  drop 
ping  her  knife. 

"  Mexico!  "  echoed  her  mother,  fixing  her 
eyes  on  Mary,  as  if  she  rather  doubted  her 
sanity. 

"Yes,  Mexico,  dears.  See  the  Mexican 
stamp,  and  the  address  to  Corona,  Cali 
fornia,  E.  U.,  —  that 's  for  Estados  Uni- 
dos,  you  know.  But  let  me  read  the  letter ; 
and  Celia,  if  you  stare  at  me  any  longer, 
your  eyes  will  come  out  on  stalks  like  a 
crab's." 

"No  wonder  I  stare,"  retorted  Celia. 
"  The  spectacle  of  a  snip  like  you  as  the 
head  of  a  private  school  in  Mexico  would 
make  a  mole  stare." 

"  Well,  snip  or  not,"  said  Mary,  who  had 
regained  her  composure,  "  she  wants  me, 
anyway,  and  here  is  the  letter." 


16  UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

CERITAS,  SONOKA,  MEXICO, 

September  7,  18  — . 

MY  DEAREST  MARY,  — Your  sad  little  letter 
of  last  June  has  followed  us  about  in  all  our 
summer  wanderings,  and,  with  its  address  almost 
illegible  from  so  much  forwarding,  is  at  last  in  my 
hands.  I  knew  of  many  of  your  family  troubles 
from  other  friends,  and  by  the  same  mail  as  your 
letter  carne  one  from  Professor  Lemaitre,  telling 
me  of  the  latest  developments  at  Glen  Ellen,  and 
saying  that  he  was  about  to  suggest  language 
teaching  to  you,  and  would  do  his  best  to  find  you 
a  few  pupils. 

"  Good  old  thing,"  observed  Mary,  pa 
renthetically  ;  "  is  n't  he  a  pet  ?  " 

You  know,  I  am  sure,  how  dear  you  are  to  me 
and  how  I  sympathize  with  your  troubles,  and 
though  it  is  nearly  four  months  since  I  wrote 
you,  yet  you  have  constantly  been  in  my  heart 
and  on  my  mind.  If  I  were  in  Corona,  I  know 
I  could  help  you  in  many  ways,  but  it  may  be, 
strangely  enough,  that  here  my  help  will  be  even 
more  effectual. 

A  number  of  the  well-to-do  people  of  Ceritas 
have  long  been  anxious  for  a  good  private  school 
in  the  town,  as  the  public  one  is  very  inferior, 
and  they  have  at  last  formed  a  company  to  take 
charge  of  the  enterprise,  and  have  applied  to  my 
husband  to  lind  a  teacher.  They  particularly 


A  LIGHT  APPEARS  17 

want  some  one  who  speaks  English,  so  that  the 
children  may  get  a  knowledge  of  that  language 
while  studying  the  other  branches,  and  since 
receiving  your  letter  and  Professor  Lemaitre's 
I  have  convinced  Mr.  Vazquez  that  you  are  just 
the  person  for  the  place,  if  Mrs.  Moore  will  let 
you  come. 

I  know  it 's  a  great  distance,  though  Sonora  is 
one  of  the  border  states,  but  Mr.  Vazquez's  busi 
ness  is  quite  certain  to  keep  him  in  Ceritas  a 
year  longer,  and  you  would  come  direct  to  us. 

"What  is  his  business?"  interrupted 
Mrs.  Moore. 

"  I  think  he  's  a  mining  engineer,"  an 
swered  Celia.  "  Mr.  Gardiner  knows  him, 
and,  oddly  enough,  they  were  speaking  of 
him  yesterday.  But  go  on  with  the  letter, 
Mollie." 

The  salary  would  be  fifty  dollars  a  month 
(continued  Mary),  and  there  would  be  no  living 
expenses  so  long  as  we  are  here.  Of  course  you 
are  very  young,  still  a  little  girl  in  many  ways, 
and  have  had  no  experience  in  teaching,  but 
your  knowledge  of  Spanish  is  unusually  good, 
and  I'm  sure  you  have  enough  energy  and 
determination  to  succeed  in  the  management  of 
the  school,  with  my  advice  and  assistance. 

You  may  assure  your  *aunt  that  we  will  take 


18  UNDER   THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

every  care  of  you  ;  the  climate  of  Sonora  is  beau 
tiful  and  the  life  interesting,  and  I  know  that  the 
whole  experience  would  benefit  you  greatly. 

Of  course  there  will  be  many  hardships  about 
the  journey,  the  daily  living,  and  the  teaching  in 
a  foreign  language,  but  in  spite  of  all  these  things 
I  advise  you  to  come,  unless,  indeed,  some  more 
lucrative  position  has  offered  itself  in  California. 

Mr.  Vazquez  incloses  a  note  with  particulars 
concerning  the  journey.  Talk  the  project  all 
over  with  your  people,  but  we  must  have  your 
answer  as  soon  as  possible,  for  the  school  should 
begin  by  the  first  of  December,  at  latest. 

With  kindest  regards  to  your  aunt  and  cousin 
and  dearest  love  to  yourself, 

Ever  affectionately  yours, 

BARBARA  F.  DE  VAZQUEZ. 

"  It 's  a  sweet  letter,"  said  Celia  reflec 
tively,  "  but  it  does  seem  like  a  mad  project 
for  Mollie,  mother." 

"  Mad,  indeed  !  "  Mrs.  Moore  exclaimed, 
stretching  out  her  arms  to  Mary.  "  Come 
here  to  me,  kitten,  and  tell  me  what  you 
think  of  it." 

Mary,  with  knitted  brow  and  the  open 
letter  in  her  hand,  crossed  the  room  and 
sank  on  a  stool  at  her  aunt's  knee. 

"Auntie,"  she  said,  "we'll  think  it  all 


A  LIGHT  APPEARS  19 

over  carefully,  but  I  'm  afraid  it 's  a  '  lead 
ing,'  as  aunt  Easter  used  to  say.  It 's  a 
good  salary,  and  with  no  expenses  I  could 
send  it  all  home.  There  's  very  little  open 
ing  in  Corona  for  me,  for  I  haven't  any 
fashionable  specialty  like  Celia,  and  per 
haps  uncle  Bertram's  insisting  on  my  tak 
ing  Spanish,  when  I  began  at  the  seminary, 
is  another  finger  of  Fate.  Mr.  Vazquez 
says  in  his  note  —  his  name's  Emilio,  by 
the  way,  and  does  n't  it  sound  odd  ?  —  that 
there  would  be  about  twenty-five  children. 
I  feel  now  that  my  place  is  among  that 
4  dusky  brood.'  I  know  I  shall  have  to 
go!" 

"  Why  shouldn't  /  go?  "  cried  Celia  ex 
citedly,  dropping  a  potato  in  her  agitation. 
"  I  'm  older  than  you,  and  it  would  be  more 
appropriate." 

"  Well,  in  the  first  place  you  don't  know 
a  word  of  Spanish  except,  4  Please  pick  up 
my  whip,'  and  4  May  I  trouble  you  for  a 
glass  of  water  ?  '  In  the  second  place  Miss 
Barbara  does  n't  ask  you,  and  in  the  third 
place  I  should  prove  that  I  was  hatched 
from  a  veritable  cuckoo's  egg  if  I  pushed 
you  out  of  your  rightful  nest  and  stayed  in 
it,  warm  and  comfortable  myself." 


20          UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

Here  Mary's  cheeks  grew  deeper  crimson, 
and  her  voice  gave  so  suspicious  a  tremble 
that  Mrs.  Moore  said  hastily,  "  Go  and 
begin  dinner,  Celia,  dear.  Mary  and  I  will 
have  a  little  quiet  talk  now,  and  there  '11  be 
plenty  of  time  for  you  girls  to  counsel  to 
gether  this  afternoon  while  I  'm  resting." 

Celia  rose,  wafting  a  finger  kiss  to  her 
cousin,  and  as  the  door  closed  behind  her, 
Mrs.  Moore  took  Mary's  hands  in  hers,  and 
said  gently :  — 

"  Whatever  the  decision  we  reach  about 
Mexico,  dear  child,  there  must  never  be  any 
question  of  this  home-nest  being  less  your 
place  than  Celia's.  I  would  have  shared  all 
I  possessed  on  earth  with  your  mother,  and 
for  her  sake,  as  well  as  for  your  own,  you 
are  so  dear  that  I  know  no  difference  be 
tween  my  two  daughters.  If  it  should  seem 
best  for  you  to  leave  us  now,  it  would  be  be 
cause  the  opening  appears  suited  to  you  and 
not  to  Celia,  and  we  will  hope,  if  you  go, 
that  things  will  brighten  so  that  you  need 
not  be  long  absent." 

"  Dear  aunt  Ellen,  I  want  to  go  for  your 
sake  most  of  all.  I  cannot  bear  to  see  you 
so  troubled  and  do  nothing  to  help  you. 
No  girl  ever  had  a  lovelier  home  than  I, 


A  LIGHT  APPEARS  21 

nor  dearer  people  to  take  care  of  her,  and 
I  want  to  be  like  the  youngest  son  in  the 
fairy  tales,  —  I  want  to  go  out  into  the  world, 
to  seek  my  fortune,  so  that  I  can  bring  back 
every  bit  of  it  to  you  and  Celia.  But  how 
I  am  ever  going  to  leave  you  "... 

Here  there  was  a  sob  and  a  sudden  break 
in  the  swift-coming  words,  and  Mary  buried 
her  face  in  her  aunt's  lap. 

Silence  settled  down  upon  the  room,  and 
quite  half  an  hour  afterwards,  Celia,  com 
ing  to  announce  dinner,  found  Mary  in  the 
same  attitude,  and  Mrs.  Moore  bending 
above  the  bowed  head  with  an  anxious  ten 
derness  like  that  of  a  mother-bird  dreading 
the  first  flight  of  her  nestling. 


CHAPTER  III. 

"ONE   TO  MAKE   READY,   AND  TWO  TO  PRE 
PARE." 

THE  new  project,  as  Mary's  prophetic 
soul  had  warned  her,  grew  to  be  considered 
by  every  one  as  indeed  one  of  aunt  Easter's 
"  leadings/' 

Cheerful  relatives  wrote  at  once;  congrat 
ulating  "  dear  Mary  on  this  delightful  op 
portunity  for  visiting  foreign  lands,"  and 
adjuring  "  dear  Ellen  "  not  to  repine  at  los 
ing  her,  but  rather  to  be  thankful  for  all  her 
mercies  and  for  this  one  in  particular.  To 
Mrs.  Moore,  it  must  be  confessed,  the  spe 
cial  mercy  in  question  shone  with  a  dubious 
radiance,  like  unto  the  moon  on  a  cloudy 
night,  and  yet  it  was  so  much  better  than 
no  light  at  all,  that  one  must  perforce  be  a 
little  thankful  for  it. 

As  there  was  really  no  good  reason  to  op 
pose  Mary's  going,  and  no  one  who  knew 
anything  of  the  possible  hardships  and  dan 
gers  of  the  trip ;  as  subsequent  letters  from 


"ONE   TO   MAKE   READY"  23 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Vazquez  were  even  more  en 
couraging,  and  the  Los  Angeles  "  pirate  " 
bestirred  himself  sufficiently  (at  so  much 
the  hour)  to  find  a  highly  respectable  escort, 
the  decision  was  soon  readied,  and  the 
youthful  pioneer  began  to  make  her  prepa 
rations.  These  were  of  necessity  very  sim 
ple,  being  largely  confined  to  making  over 
two  of  her  aunt's  dresses,  mending  some  old 
ones,  buying  a  pair  of  new  shoes,  covering 
a  hat-frame  with  silk  and  velvet  from  the 
piece-bag,  and  blacking  with  Koyal  Polish 
a  straw  sailor  for  the  journey. 

Celia  mourned  over  the  scantiness  of  the 
outfit,  but  as  Mary  was  no  needlewoman, 
she  herself  already  at  work  with  Miss  Bar 
ton  part  of  the  day,  and  her  mother  over 
taxed  with  household  duties,  there  were  few 
hands,  even  had  there  been  any  money,  to 
adorn  the  victim  for  the  sacrifice.  Yet 
Mary  was  perfectly  content,  insisting  that 
she  always  liked  made-over  things  better 
than  new  ones,  that  the  mere  presence  of 
three  dozen  shoe-buttons  in  her  trunk  made 
her  feel  like  one  of  the  Kothschilds,  and 
that  her  toilets  were  most  satisfactory  in 
view  of  the  fact  that  all  the  company  she 
was  likely  to  see  in  Ceritas  was  the  school- 


24  UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

children  and  members  of  the  adjacent  tribes 
of  Indians. 

Sanguine  neighbors  predicted  that  she 
would  promptly  wed  a  Mexican  mine-owner 
or  capitalist,  and  come  home  with  rings  on 
her  fingers  and  bells  on  her  toes,  but  Mary 
listened  to  these  vaporings  with  ill-concealed 
scorn.  As  the  time  drew  near  for  leaving, 
however,  she  developed  a  haunting  fear  that 
Celia  would  desert,  in  her  absence,  an  Old 
Maids'  Sisterhood  they  had  both  joined  that 
summer,  and  she  unreasonably  fixed  upon  an 
elderly  gentleman  who  sometimes  came  to 
play  duets  with  the  princess,  as  the  chief 
object  of  her  apprehensions. 

"  Why,  Molliekin,  you  're  perfectly  ab 
surd,"  exclaimed  Celia,  as  they  sat  together 
in  the  great  armchair  one  evening.  "  Mr. 
Pollock  is  old  enough  to  be  my  grandfather, 
and  he  never  has  taken  anything  but  a  musi 
cal  interest  in  me.  Why  you  should  think 
I  am  going  to  be  plucked  from  the  bough  as 
soon  as  you  leave  is  more  than  I  can  ima 
gine,  for  there  isn't  a  young  man  within 
leagues  of  the  Glen,  as  far  as  I  know,  and 
if  there  were,  what  time  should  I  have  for 
him  with  the  flower  work,  and  the  house,  and 
mother?  Go  to !  and  don't  be  silly.  I  '11  swear 


"ONE   TO  MAKE  READY"  25 

another  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  Sisterhood, 
if  you  like,  and  I  '11  paint  you  a  picture  of 
the  Old  Maids'  Hall  of  the  future,  that  you 
can  take  to  Ceritas." 

"  Oh,  joy  !  "  cried  Mary  ;  "I  've  always 
wanted  one,  and  it  will  be  such  a  comfort. 
I  '11  hang  it  in  my  room  and  gaze  upon  it 
whenever  I  feel  apprehensive.  I  wouldn't 
brood  over  the  subject  if  you  were  n't  so 
lovely,  but  I  know  you  're  just  the  kind  of 
honey  that  attracts  the  bees." 

"  Would  't  were  true !  "  sighed  Celia, 
blushing  a  little.  "  I  assure  you  I  would  n't 
mind  some  concrete  evidence  of  the  fact, 
but  don't  worry,  dear,  you  're  perfectly  safe. 
When  you  come  home  with  a  fortune  five 
years  hence,  your  maiden  cousin  will  be  the 
first  to  welcome  you,  and  she  '11  promise  to 
sit  by  your  fireside  and  live  at  your  expense 
forever  after." 

There  were  many  serious  as  well  as  gay 
conversations  between  the  two  girls,  in  the 
great  armchair  now,  and  long,  quiet  talks 
with  the  house-mother,  when  treasures  of 
spiritual  wisdom  and  tenderness  were  opened 
to  Mary's  eager,  seeking  heart ;  while  night 
and  day,  Sandalphon,  the  angel  of  prayer, 
gathered  up  the  cloud  of  petitions,  each  for 


26  UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

all  and  all  for  each,  that  rose  from  the  little 
cottage. 

It  was  not  that  Mary's  journey  and  her 
life  in  Mexico  were  likely  to  be  at  all  dan 
gerous,  but  the  three  women  had  clung  more 
closely  to  one  another  since  uncle  Bertram's 
death  ;  this  was  the  first  separation  since  that 
sad  time,  and  Mrs.  Moore  was  always  so 
frail  that  the  unspoken  question,  "  Shall  I 
ever  see  her  again?"  trembled  every  hour 
of  the  day  behind  Mary's  close-shut  lips. 

The  last  afternoon  came,  and  Mr.  Gardi 
ner  arrived  as  the  traveler's  escort  to  Los 
Angeles,  having  volunteered  to  accompany 
her  there  and  deliver  his  charge  in  safety 
that  evening  to  Judge  Mason  of  the  Arizona 
Supreme  Court,  who  was  to  take  charge  of 
her  as  far  as  Tontin. 

Mary  had  expressed  the  intention  of  ar 
ranging  her  conversation  to  suit  the  eminent 
jurist  who  had  kindly  consented  to  take 
her  under  his  wing,  and  had  planned  to 
tuck  into  her  bag  at  the  last  moment  two 
stray  legal  volumes,  "  Bump  on  Fraudulent 
Conveyances"  and  "Chitty  on  Pleading," 
which  had  somehow  drifted  into  Mr.  Moore's 
library. 

But  none  of  these  things  were  remembered 


"ONE   TO   MAKE  READY"  27 

when  the  final  wrench  of  parting  came,  and 
Celia  stood  by  bathed  in  tears,  while  Mary, 
her  courage  at  last  completely  swept  from 
under  her,  clung  to  her  aunt's  neck  with 
the  tense  grasp  of  a  drowning  man. 

She  had  not  the  physical  strength,  it 
seemed  to  her,  to  loose  her  hold ;  every  firm 
resolve  drifted  away  in  the  waves  of  agony 
closing  over  her  head,  and  Mr.  Gardiner,  to 
cut  short  the  already  prolonged  suffering, 
at  last  unclasped  her  hands,  took  her  in  his 
arms,  and  carried  her  bodily  to  the  car 
riage. 

The  journey  to  Los  Angeles  was  hardly 
more  agreeable  to  this  good  Samaritan  than 
to  Mary  herself,  but  as  she  neared  the  city, 
she  somewhat  regained  her  balance,  and  so 
bravely  made  all  her  good  resolutions  over 
again  that  when  she  was  introduced  that 
evening  to  her  traveling  companion,  she 
was  perfectly  composed  and  presentable. 

Judge  Mason  proved  to  be  all  that  was 
correct  in  point  of  age  and  grizzled  hairs, 
and  disposed  to  be  warm  and  friendly  to 
his  pale,  heavy-eyed  little  charge. 

He  helped  her  on  the  train,  assuring  her 
that  her  berth  was  already  made  up,  that 
they  would  be  at  Yuma  next  morning  be- 


28  UNDER  THP:  CACTUS  FLAG 

fore  she  had  her  sleep  out,  and  that  the 
journey  to  Tontin  was  a  mere  trifle,  one 
that  invalids  often  took  for  health's  sake. 

Mary  waved  her  hand  to  Mr.  Gardiner, 
the  train  started,  stopped,  and  started  again 
with  decision,  the  engine  gave  a  prolonged 
howl  of  despair  at  leaving  lovely  California, 
and  the  youthful  traveler  realized,  amid  the 
rumble  of  wheels,  the  rattle  of  machinery, 
and  the  steady  jolt  of  the  cars,  that  her  jour 
ney  into  the  world  had  begun  in  earnest. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ON    THE   FRONTIER. 

IN  the  first  long  letter  that  Mary  sent 
home  after  reaching  Ceritas,  she  wrote  that 
the  journey,  like  all  Gaul,  was  divided  into 
three  parts ;  that  the  first  was  attended  with 
mental  distress,  in  the  second,  physical  an 
guish  was  predominant,  while  to  the  last 
spiritual  apprehension  was  added. 

This  sketch  of  the  trip,  though  put  in 
humorous  fashion,  was  fairly  descriptive  of 
what  it  must  have  seemed  to  a  young  and 
tenderly  nurtured  girl.  A  strong  man,  ac 
customed  to  rough  living,  would  doubtless 
have  regarded  it  lightly  enough;  and  in 
truth  it  could  not  be  considered  perilous, 
for  Mary,  though  cold,  was  never  frost 
bitten,  though  hungry,  came  nowhere  near 
starvation  and,  though  somewhat  dazed  for 
want  of  sleep,  managed  to  retain  her  spirits 
and  her  courage. 

The  first  night,  spent  in  regal  elegance 
upon  a  sleeping-car,  was  indeed  a  "  white 


30  UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

night,"  both  within  and  without,  for  the 
land  was  flooded  with  moonlight,  and  the 
girl  lay  for  hours  propped  upon  her  pillows, 
the  curtains  of  her  berth  pinned  back,  gaz 
ing  out  on  the  fast-flying  panorama  of  dusky 
brushwood,  of  silvered  desert,  and  sudden- 
rising  mountain  peak. 

The  rhythmic  tremble  of  the  cars  soon 
set  itself  to  music  in  her  brain,  and  to  the 
strains  she  began  to  dream  dreams,  and  to 
see  sweet  visions  of  the  future.  These  mo 
ments  of  exaltation  alternated  with  periods 
of  depression  when  the  fierce  ache  in  her 
throat  threatened  to  burst  out  into  sobs,  and 
homesick  tears  stole  from  her  tired  eyes. 
She  was  alone,  and  had  no  one  to  consider, 
so  she  enjoyed  what  is  sometimes  a  profound 
luxury,  that  of  giving  full  sway  to  pent-up 
grief;  but  Mother  Nature  had  no  mind  to 
allow  an  unlimited  expenditure  of  this  ner 
vous  force,  and  when  the  cuckoo  in  the  hall 
at  distant  Glen  Ellen  had  caroled  three 
times  for  the  coming  day,  Mary  was  wrapped 
in  the  dreamless  sleep  of  a  tired  child. 

When  at  last  the  travelers  crossed  the 
brown,  swirling  flood  of  the  Colorado,  the 
morning  was  well  advanced,  and  by  that 
time  she  had  met  the  other  members  of 


ON  THE   FRONTIER  31 

Judge  Mason's  party,  and  found,  much  to  her 
disappointment,  not  a  woman  amongst  them. 

One  was  a  young  physician  going  down 
to  settle  in  Tontin ;  one  a  capitalist,  seeking 
mining  investments,  and,  the  last  to  be  pre 
sented,  a  delicate  lad  of  perhaps  eighteen 
years,  sent  to  Arizona  to  ward  off  consump 
tive  tendencies.  They  were  all  perfectly 
courteous  to  Mary,  but  did  not  appear  to 
look  upon  her  addition  to  the  party  as  a 
matter  for  exuberant  gayety,  each  one  seem 
ing  to  cherish  the  inward  conviction  that  she 
would  be  a  great  deal  of  trouble,  the  brunt 
of  which  was  likely  to  fall  on  his  own  de 
voted  shoulders. 

As  they  stepped  from  the  cars  at  Yuma, 
the  judge  exclaimed  with  apparent  hearti 
ness,  "  Again  my  feet  press  with  gladness 
the  sacred  soil  of  Arizona  !  "  but  his  words 
were  unheeded  in  the  chorus  of  ejaculations 
that  followed  the  first  view  of  the  town  and 
its  surroundings.  Mary  and  Jack  Martin 
exchanged  pathetic  glances,  drawn  together 
at  once  by  the  comradeship  of  youth,  and 
confided  to  each  other  afterwards  that  they 
distinctly  felt  at  the  moment  a  series  of 
cold  shivers  run  down  their  respective  back 
bones. 


32  UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

"  Is  this  lazy,  muddy  stream  the  wonder 
ful  Colorado?"  cried  the  doctor. 

"  Are  there  any  more  towns  in  the  Terri 
tory  like  this?"  asked  the  capitalist,  with  a 
hasty  backward  glance  at  the  car. 

"  You  '11  see  the  time,"  replied  the  judge 
grimly,  "when  you'll  look  back  to  Yuma 
as  the  children  of  Israel  did  to  Egypt.  But 
we  must  n't  stand  talking  here  when  break 
fast  is  in  prospect.  Come,  child,"  turning 
to  Mary,  "  you  must  be  almost  famished. 
Here  is  the  coach,  and  we  can  view  the 
landscape  as  we  go." 

At  this  moment  appeared  to  Mary's  fas 
cinated  gaze  the  first  specimen  of  the  red 
man  of  romance  that  she  had  ever  seen. 
The  breezes  played  freely  about  his  noble 
legs,  while  a  short  jacket  covered  the  upper 
part  of  his  figure.  Like  the  maiden's  in 
the  song,  "  loose  were  his  jetty  locks,  in 
wavy  tresses  flowing,"  but  he  appeared  to 
be  in  great  haste,  and  vanished  at  a  jog  trot 
around  a  turn  in  the  embankment  before  he 
could  be  examined  to  advantage. 

"  Those  fellows  are  wonderful  runners," 
said  the  judge,  gazing  approvingly  at  the 
swift  pace.  "  We  used  to  employ  them  as 
messengers  here  in  Arizona,  and  they  could 


ON  THE  FRONTIER  33 

travel  fifteen  miles  an  hour  at  that  gait 
without  apparent  fatigue.  There  was  an  old 
Apache  servant  of  mine,  Bat-to-chee-sha  (the 
coyote),  they  called  him,  who  "  -  But  the 
end  of  the  story  was  never  heard,  for  at  that 
moment  the  coach  drew  up  at  the  "  Grand 
Hotel,"  a  low  yellow-washed  adobe  building, 
whose  piazza  was  dotted  with  lounging  men. 

With  *>ne  accord,  these  worthies  shifted 
their  positions  a  trifle,  and  fixed  their  gaze 
upon  Mary  with  such  intensity  that  she 
nervously  put  her  hand  to  her  head,  fearing 
that  she  had  lost  her  hat,  or  that  her  mop 
of  curly  hair  was  coming  down.  Reassured 
on  these  points  she  ascended  the  steps  with 
a  suggestion  of  Celia's  "  Windsor  Castle 
air,"  and  followed  a  servant  to  her  room. 

The  apartment  into  which  she  was  ush 
ered  boasted  no  window,  but  a  plenitude  of 
doors,  one  of  them,  half  of  glass,  set  slightly 
open  into  a  side  yard,  through  which  the 
sunlight  streamed  so  bravely,  and  the  air 
blew  so  crystal-clear  and  bracing,  that  no 
one  save  a  confirmed  pessimist  could  have 
withstood  their  entreaty  to  be  gay. 

Mary  perched  on  the  bed  a  moment  to 
view  her  new  domain,  and  as  she  was  won 
dering  when  the  floor  had  been  swept  last, 


34  UNDER   THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

and  to  whom  the  clothes  in  the  corner  be 
longed,  a  flannel-shirted  individual  walked 
in  from  the  yard  without  the  formality  of 
knocking,  surveyed  her  with  some  interest, 
and  strolled  through  the  opposite  door. 

Breakfast  was  called  at  this  moment,  fol 
lowed  by  a  rush  of  feet  down  the  hall  like  a 
stampede  at  a  fire,  and  Mary,  separated 
from  the  judge  by  several  places,  had  no 
opportunity  at  the  moment  to  confide  to  him 
this  first  experience  of  frontier  manners. 

As  they  were  rising  from  the  meal,  the 
doctor  leaned  over  to  say  that  they  were  all 
going  out  to  see  the  town,  and  she  must  put 
on  her  hat  at  once  and  accompany  them. 
She  hurried  to  her  room,  intending  to  make 
herself  a  bit  more  presentable,  and  had 
scarcely  donned  a  dressing-sacque,  when  an 
other  man  popped  his  head  in  at  the  glass 
door,  but  withdrawing  it  at  once,  remarked 
to  some  one  outside  that  he  guessed  the 
young  lady  was  a-fixin'  herself. 

Apparently  repenting  his  cowardly  re 
treat,  he  at  once  returned,  saying  apologet 
ically  that  he  'd  like  to  come  in  and  get  his 
boots  if  she  did  n't  mind,  —  he  an'  his  pard- 
ner  hevin'  been  kind  o'  usin'  that  room  to 
dress  in  for  some  time  back. 


ON  THE   FRONTIER  35 

Its  astounded  occupant  raised  no  ob 
jection,  but  begged  he  would  wait  a  few 
moments  until  she  had  finished  her  toilet. 
This  was  naturally  hurried  through,  and 
locking  her  traveling-bags  she  ran  out  and 
almost  into  Judge  Mason's  arms,  as  he 
stood  waiting  for  her  on  the  sidewalk. 

"  Dear  sir,"  she  panted,  "  I  'm  really  not 
at  all  fussy,  and  I  don't  mean  to  be  a  bit 
more  trouble  than  I  can  help,  but  some 
thing  will  have  to  be  done  about  my  room. 
Why,  it  is  n't  a  room  at  all  —  it 's  a  thor 
oughfare,  and  there  have  been  three  men 
in  it  already!  " 

"  Bless  my  soul !  "  cried  the  judge. 
"  Where  can  they  have  put  you  ?  They  're 
not  accustomed  to  young  ladies  down  here, 
and  that  lout  of  a  boy  probably  showed  you 
in  at  the  first  open  door.  Never  mind,  we  '11 
take  our  walk  now,  and  when  we  get  back 
I  '11  find  you  a  decent  corner  in  the  house,  if 
it 's  the  bridal  chamber.  Have  you  brought 
your  money  with  you  and  locked  your 
bags?  Yes?  All  right  then.  Come  on, 
Jack."  (This  to  young  Martin,  who  was 
lingering  in  the  rear.)  "  Here 's  a  maiden 
fair,  awaiting  your  escort." 

The  lad  joined  them  with  a  flush  of  plea- 


3G  UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

sure  on  his  hollow  cheeks,  and  Mary,  walk 
ing  by  his  side,  felt  many  a  sympathetic 
pang,  as  she  noted  his  gaunt  figure,  and 
wondered  how  roughing  it  on  the  frontier 
could  be  considered  a  specific  for  such  evi 
dent  ills. 

Although  the  second  week  in  November 
had  already  passed,  yet  the  Arizona  sun 
still  shone  with  considerable  vigor,  and  the 
glare  from  the  white  shadeless  roads  was 
intense.  To  the  judge's  unconcealed  satis 
faction,  all  the  travelers  remarked  on  the 
clearness  of  the  atmosphere,  and  on  the  dry, 
exhilarating  air  that  seemed  to  tune  the 
nerves  to  concert  pitch.  Jack  already  felt 
better,  he  said,  and  as  he  held  Mary's  para 
sol,  became  very  chatty  and  confidential, 
telling  her  of  his  father  and  sisters,  of  his 
first  year  at  college  (poor  lad  !  it  was  likely 
to  be  his  only  one),  of  his  dogs  and  horses, 
and  his  achievements  in  athletic  sports. 

Mary,  it  may  be  supposed,  was  not  a  whit 
behind  in  this  dialogue,  and  when  the  ex 
cursion  was  over,  it  was  certainly  no  fault 
of  hers  if  Jack  was  not  qualified  to  recog 
nize  aunt  Ellen  and  Princess  Celia  in  any 
assembly,  however  crowded. 

The  little  party  was  first  conducted  by 


ON  THE  FRONTIER  37 

the  judge  up  the  hill  to  the  penitentiary, 
a  massive  building  guarded  by  white  cliffs 
on  the  one  side,  and  on  the  other,  down  a 
precipice,  by  the  Colorado  River.  The 
keeper,  who  did  the  honors  of  the  institu 
tion,  proved  to  be  an  affable  person  with 
great  conversational  powers,  and  such  full 
and  unsavory  particulars  were  imparted  by 
him  of  the  history  of  the  prisoners,  some 
of  the  most  desperate,  hardened  criminals 
of  the  border,  it  appeared,  that  the  younger 
members  of  the  company  soon  wandered 
away. 

The  hill  was  covered  with  fragments  of 
rock  of  all  sizes  and,  as  the  judge  called 
to  them,  by  and  by,  that  opals  had  several 
times  been  found  there,  considerable  grop 
ing  and  fumbling  began  at  once"  among  the 
broken  pieces.  The  exercise  proved  ex 
hausting  in  that  temperature,  however,  and 
Mary  and  Jack  contented  themselves  with 
some  agates  which  would  serve  as  memen 
toes  of  the  journey. 

"  If  you  came  here  in  summer,"  said  the 
judge  as  they  left  the  penitentiary,  "  you  'd 
be  likely  to  find  these  gates  wide  open,  and 
most  of  the  prisoners  working  in  and  about 
the  yard  with  a  very  small  guard.  They 


38  UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

don't  need  one,  Heaven  knows ;  the  awful 
deserts  that  stretcli  away  from  here  for  one 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  in  three  directions, 
and  the  cactus  and  the  rattlesnakes  on  that 
sandy  waste  across  the  river,  are  all  the 
guards  that  are  required.  In  fourteen  years 
only  one  man  has  escaped,  and  he  was  a 
poor  half-breed  who  by  the  time  he  got 
down  into  Mexico  was  a  raving  maniac 
from  hunger  and  thirst.  There  are  too 
many  stories  current  of  horrible  suffering 
out  among  the  cactus  and  the  sand-hills  in 
Arizona  for  a  convict  even  to  think  of  es 
cape." 

"  It 's  a  horrible,  forbidding  place  any 
way,"  said  the  doctor.  "  One  of  the  guards 
told  me  that  no  one  knows  what  these  poor 
fellows  suffer  in  summer.  Fancy  being 
locked  for  ten  hours  every  night  in  a  stone 
cell  four  by  eight  feet,  with  a  temperature 
of  105°  to  107°  !  I  tell  you,  Arizona  is  one 
spot,  at  least,  where  the  wicked  do  not  flour 
ish  like  a  green  bay-tree." 

"  It 's  dreadful  to  think  of,"  said  Mary 
with  a  distressed  sigh ;  "  it  was  uncomfort 
ably  hot  up  there  even  to-day." 

"  Here  are  some  brethren  that  don't  com 
plain  of  the  heat  much,"  said  the  judge, 


ON  THE  FRONTIER  39 

and  up  the  hill  came  a  company  of  In 
dians,  taking  the  air  together,  the  squaws 
with  their  roughly  painted  faces  and  gaudy 
red  blankets  carrying  round-eyed  papooses 
strapped  to  their  backs.  The  braves  stalked 
along  beside  them,  in  unincumbered  dig 
nity,  attired  in  their  short  jackets  and  red 
flannel  loin-cloths,  their  shining  coppery  legs 
sometimes  dappled,  like  a  leopard's,  with 
white  painted  spots.  Neither  the  masculine 
nor  the  feminine  costume  seemed  appro 
priate  to  the  climate,  the  one  being  as  much 
too  warm  as  the  other  appeared  too  cool, 
and  the  appearance  of  the  whole  group  was 
so  startlingly  like  the  pictures  in  a  story 
book  that  Jack  said  he  almost  expected  to 
hear  the  accompanying  war-whoops  and  the 
whiz  of  the  tomahawks. 

As  they  neared  the  river  bank  another 
novel  figure  met  their  gaze,  for  down  the 
tumbling  waters,  on  a  raft  of  logs  which  he 
managed  with  a  long  pole,  came  a  really 
splendid  savage.  He  was  naked,  save  for 
the  heavy,  tossing  locks  of  his  black  hair 
and  his  red  sash  that  floated  out  behind  him 
like  a  banner.  Tall,  brown,  muscular  and 
sinewy,  balancing  himself  and  guiding  his 
rebellious  craft  down  the  swift  current  with 


40  UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

perfect  skill  and  grace,  he  was  so  fine  a 
specimen  of  athletic  manhood  that  the  party 
watched  him  with  delight  until  he  disap 
peared,  Jack  greeting  his  exit  from  the 
scene  with  a  toss  of  his  cap  and  as  good  a 
sample  of  his  college  yell  as  his  weak  lungs 
permitted. 

Arrived  at  the  hotel  Judge  Mason  sought 
better  accommodations  for  Mary,  and  finally 
installed  her,  as  he  had  suggested,  in  the 
bridal  chamber.  This  was  adorned  with  a 
carpet  and  a  red  plush  sofa,  and  was  lav 
ishly  provided  with  doors  and  French  win 
dows,  though  fortunately  all  had  bolts  so 
large  as  to  give  some  feeling  of  security. 
It  was  subsequently  found  that  the  apart 
ment  was  the  only  drawing-room  of  the 
hotel,  and  Mary  shared  it  during  the  after 
noon  with  a  considerable  variety  of  single 
persons  and  stray  couples,  varying  in  num 
ber  from  two  to  eight  at  a  time. 

This  afforded  an  unexampled  opportunity 
to  study  the  dress,  manners,  and  language 
of  the  frontier,  but  Mary,  as  she  wrote  her 
first  home  letters  in  this  mixed  assemblage, 
thought  that  social  studies  were  not  so  much 
to  her  taste,  at  the  time,  as  a  few  quiet  hours 
of  retirement  would  have  been. 


ON  THE  FRONTIER  41 

"  Do  you  think  they  '11  go  at  bedtime  ?  " 
she  anxiously  inquired  of  the  judge,  slip 
ping  out  on  the  piazza.  "  I  don't  mind 
so  much  now,  but  I  can't  say  I  fancy  the 
prospect  of  sitting  up  all  night,  particularly 
with  that  one-eyed  desperado  on  the  sofa 
glaring  at  me." 

"What  desperado?"  asked  the  judge, 
laughing.  "Oh,  you  mean  that  fellow  in 
the  felt  hat  ?  Why,  he  's  a  rancher  near 
here,  and  as  mild  as  milk.  But-  don't  you 
trouble  your  pretty  head  —  they  '11  all  go 
out  after  supper  ;  if  they  don't  they  shall 
be  put  out,  and  if  you  say  so  I  '11  do  it 
now,"  rising  from  his  chair  with  alacrity. 

"  Oh,  no ! "  cried  Mary  nervously,  re 
membering  that  she  had  heard  frontiersmen 
were  very  "  handy  "  with  their  weapons  when 
offended.  "  No,  indeed  ;  I  'm  doing  very 
well  now,  if  I  can  only  hope  to  have  my 
room  to  myself  for  the  night.  There  's  no 
thing  like  travel  for  enlarging  the  mind, 
and  I  might  as  well  have  all  the  new  expe 
riences  I  can  get.  No,  pray  keep  your  seat, 
Mr.  Martin,  —  thank  you.  I  can't  come  out 
now,  I  'm  busy  writing." 

The  various  occupants  of  the  bridal  cham 
ber  did  indeed  depart  when  the  dusk  began 


42  UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

to  fall,  and  Mary  retired  early,  carefully 
slipping  all  the  bolts,  barricading  the  long 
windows  with  bureaus  and  tables,  rolling 
the  washstand  against  one  door,  and  build 
ing  a  monument  of  chairs  against  the  other. 
This  defense  accomplished,  she  sought  her 
couch,  and  fell  asleep  at  once  in  spite  of  the 
fact  that  a  score  of  men  were  talking  on 
the  porch  almost  at  her  ear,  and  an  Indian 
circus  procession,  with  rattling  drums  and 
tooting  horns,  was  parading  the  streets. 

All  was  dark  and  still,  however,  when 
hours  afterward  she  wras  wakened  from 
sweetest  dreams  of  home  by  the  sound  of 
a  pistol-shot  apparently  fired  at  her  door. 

She  sat  up  in  bed,  her  heart  beating  a 
reveille  against  her  side,  but  nothing  fol 
lowed  save  loud  voices,  quick  movements, 
and  some  confusion  in  the  next  room.  In 
a  few  moments  there  was  a  tap  at  her  door, 
and  the  judge  called  out  reassuringly, 
"  Don't  be  frightened,  Miss  Annesley ; 
there  's  nothing  at  all  the  matter.  One  of 
the  fellows  in  the  next  room  is  in  rather 
high  spirits  to-night  and  has  been  making  a 
target  of  his  bureau.  They  Ve  pitched  him 
out  into  the  corral  now,  and  taken  away  his 
gun.  You  're  all  right.  Good-night." 


ON  THE  FRONTIER  43 

"  All  right  indeed  !  "  thought  Mary,  as 
she  sank  back  on  her  pillows.  "  Well,  per 
haps  I  am;  but,  shades  of  my  ancestors! 
what  would  they  think  of  this  at  Glen 
Ellen?" 


CHAPTER   V. 

AN   ARIZONA   STAGE   RIDE. 

"  STRANGE  all  this  difference  should  be 
'Twixt  tweedle-dum  and  tweedle-dee," 

—  quoted  Dr.  Culver  next  morning,  as  the 
little  canvas-covered  Tontin  stage  jolted  up 
to  the  hotel  steps  ;  "  compare  this  trap  with 
the  stagecoach  of  romance,  the  stagecoach  of 
adventure,  the  gallant  vehicle,  with  its  pran 
cing  steeds,  that  Dick  Turpin  stopped,  and 
Beau  Brocade  rifled." 

"  This  kind  of  an  outfit 's  jest  ez  handy  to 
rob  ez  any  other  kind,"  remarked  a  satur 
nine  bystander,  "and  don't  you  forgit  it 
when  you  git  out  here  on  the  desert  a  piece ! 
The  art  o'  stage-robbin'  ain't  one  o'  the  lost 
arts  in  this  country,  anyhow." 

"  Our  friend  is  reassuring,"  murmured 
Jack  Martin,  helping  Mary  to  her  place. 
"  There  's  nothing  like  starting  on  a  journey 
with  pleasant  anticipations.  But  don't  you 
worry,  Miss  Annesley,"  as  he  took  his  seat 
beside  her  ;  "  we  've  all  got  revolvers,  and 
we  '11  take  care  of  you  among  us." 


AN  ARIZONA   STAGE   RIDE  45 

"  Fiddlesticks  with  your  revolvers  !  "  cried 
the  judge.  "This  stage  hasn't  been  held 
up  for  a  year ;  the  road  agents  are  all  in  the 
penitentiary,  and  the  Apaches  are  011  their 
reservations  learning  to  knit  and  crochet. 
If  Miss  Mary  can  live  through  a  seventy- 
two  hours'  continuous  ride,  she  can  afford  to 
laugh  at  the  thought  of  highway  robbers." 

"  Particularly,"  said  Mary  gayly,  "  as  all 
her  money  is  in  the  judge's  pocket.  But 
dear  me !  what  a  tight  fit  we  are  for  this 
vehicle  !  I  wonder  if  it  '11  stretch  as  we  go 
on." 

"  Probably  not,  but  my  prophetic  soul  tells 
me  that  we  shall  shrink,"  laughed  Jack. 
"  Don't  you  want  my  rug  behind  you,  Miss 
Annesley,  and  could  n't  you  use  one  of  my 
bags  for  a  footstool  ?  " 

"Keep  your  rugs  for  yourself,  Jack," 
said  the  judge.  "  I  '11  make  this  lassie  so 
comfortable  that  she  '11  think  she  's  in  her 
own  armchair  at  home." 

This  innocent  speech,  so  kindly  made, 
flew  to  Mary's  heart  like  an  arrow.  As  by 
a  flash-light  she  saw  the  great  armchair  in 
Celia's  window,  and  her  cousin  and  herself 
curled  up  there  in  the  soft  dusk,  for  one  of 
their  never  ending  talks.  Her  lip  trein- 


46  UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

bled,  and  she  bent  to  arrange  her  shawl- 
strap,  to  hide  the  tears  that  rushed  to  her 
eyes.  But  no  one  noticed  her  momentary 
distress,  for  the  stage  had  started,  and  all 
were  occupied  in  efforts  to  arrange  their 
effects  as  best  they  might,  and  to  make  their 
hard  seats  a  trifle  less  uncomfortable. 

Though  only  twenty-four  hours  had  passed 
since  Mary  had  joined  the  party,  yet  the  dis 
inclination,  at  first  so  apparent,  to  receive 
her  amongst  them  had  quite  disappeared, 
unless  some  traces  of  it  still  remained  with 
the  capitalist,  who  was  a  reserved  and  silent 
person. 

But  the  little  maid  had  already  shown 
herself  so  cheery,  so  plucky,  as  the  judge 
called  it,  so  considerate  and  so  resolved  to 
make  the  best  of  everything,  that  she  posi 
tively  shed  a  light  upon  the  stagecoach,  and 
the  doctor  vowed  that  he  began  to  believe 
the  journey  would  prove,  in  Samanthy 
Allen's  parlance,  a  veritable  "pleasure- 
exertion." 

Yet  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  she  was 
not,  with  all  her  efforts,  an  incumbrance  in 
some  respects,  and  the  cause  of  a  little  extra 
trouble,  but  her  companions  proved  them 
selves  to  be  really  of  a  chivalrous  spirit  by 


AN  ARIZONA  STAGE   RIDE  47 

sharing  all  their  traveling  conveniences  with 
her,  even,  in  spite  of  remonstrance,  making 
her  use  some  things  they  really  needed,  and 
bearing  the  consequent  discomfort  with  he 
roic  spirit.  If  they  found  her  in  the  way, 
no  one  of  them  by  word,  or  look,  ever  made 
it  known,  while  the  judge  hovered  about  her 
like  a  hen  with  one  chicken,  and  Jack  was 
another  Raleigh  in  gallantry  and  devotion. 
Truly,  the  little  pilgrim  had  reason  to  be 
thankful  for  the  kindly  hands  stretched  out 
to  aid  her  at  the  outset  of  her  journey.  She 
might  have  fallen  among  very  different  com 
panions,  and  had  serious  trials  to  endure  in 
addition  to  the  fatigue,  the  heat  and  cold, 
the  loss  of  sleep,  and  aching  bones  which 
would  have  been  her  portion  in  any  case. 

The  stage  had  not  traveled  as  far  as  Fili 
buster,  the  dinner  station,  before  Dr.  Culver 
had  shown  her  his  wife's  miniature  painted 
on  ivory  and  mounted  in  a  marvelous  vel 
vet  case,  while  the  judge  told  her  shortly 
afterward  all  about  his  wonderful  boy  at 
Harvard,  closing  by  saying  that  it  was  his 
intention  to  take  her  directly  home  with  him 
when  they  reached  Tontin,  to  rest  until  she 
heard  from  her  friends  at  Ceritas.  He 
should  telegraph  Mrs.  Mason  to  that  effect 


48  UNDER   THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

when  they  were  within  a  day  of  their  desti 
nation,  and  she  need  not  protest,  for  he  had 
her  fast  in  his  clutches. 

Mary  had  no  thought  of  protesting,  nor 
indeed  of  anything  save  gratitude,  and  with 
a  heart  warmed  by  all  this  friendliness,  lis 
tened  subsequently  with  flattering  attention 
to  Jack's  account  of  a  camping  trip  in  the 
Yosemite  the  previous  summer. 

The  capitalist  made  no  confidences,  but  he 
eyed  her  in  a  kindly  manner,  and  at  dinner, 
seeing  that  she  did  not  bemoan  the  absence 
of  milk  in  her  coffee,  said  that  her  wooden 
stool  was  quite  comfortable,  and  made  no 
objection  to  a  two-pronged  steel  fork,  he  ob 
served  gravely  that  it  must  have  been  a 
sensible  woman  that  brought  her  up. 

This  tribute  was  accepted  by  Miss  Annes- 
ley  with  becoming  modesty,  and  stored  away 
in  her  memory  for  her  beloved  aunt  Ellen, 
whose  practical  merits  as  a  trainer  of  youth 
it  decidedly  understated. 

The  clear-eyed,  blazing  Arizona  sun  had 
not  dropped  out  of  sight  that  first  evening 
before,  upon  one  of  the  travelers  at  least,  the 
strange  charm  of  the  desert  had  stolen. 
The  shimmering  sky-line,  the  pale,  sparkling 
sand,  the  gray-green  of  the  sage-brush,  the 


AN    ARIZONA   STAGE    RIDE  49 

ash-colored  masses  of  rock  rising  abruptly 
from  the  dead  level,  and  fluted  and  twisted 
into  pillars  and  domes  and  spires,  the  giant 
cactus  lifting  beseeching  arms  high  in  air, 
the  sunset  light  on  the  distant  peaks,  pur 
ple,  mysterious,  ineffable,  —  all  these  were 
so  many  strange  details  of  this  landscape, 
half  beautiful  and  half  sinister.  Here  was 
no  ordinary,  comfortable  prettiness  of  spar 
kling  water,  of  verdure  and  flowers,  but  the 
beauty  of  free  air  and  illimitable  space,  of 
pale,  faint  tints  in  growing  things,  of  severe 
outlines,  cliffs  painted  in  ashes  of  roses,  and 
blue,  jewel-like  depths  of  sky. 

While  the  doctor  inveighed  against  the 
alkali  dust,  Jack  complained  of  dazzled  eyes, 
and  the  capitalist  growled  at  the  general  de 
solation,  Mary  leaned  against  her  canvas  cur 
tain  and  looked  out,  out,  far  out  across  the 
miles  of  distance  as  vague,  as  uncertain,  as 
mysterious  as  the  future  she  was  journeying 
to  meet. 

The  judge,  being  an  old  traveler,  filled 
his  rubber  pillow  with  air,  and  placing  it 
in  divers  curious  positions  snatched  occa 
sional  cat  naps  which  he  pronounced  most 
refreshing,  though  while  taking  them  he 
appeared  to  the  rest  of  the  company  to  be 


50  UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

enduring  great  suffering.  He  wasted  no 
time  on  the  scenery,  which  was  not  only 
too  familiar  to  be  interesting,  but  too  pain 
fully  associated  in  his  mind  with  pioneer 
experiences,  —  with  hunger,  burning  thirst, 
blinding  heat,  and  days  of  footsore  travel. 

At  Sahuaro,  the  supper  station,  so  called 
from  the  many  specimens  of  organ  -  pipe 
cactus  growing  near,  he  drew  Mary's  atten 
tion  to  a  splendid  giant,  whose  fluted  trunk 
rose  thirty  feet  in  air  and  whose  great  arms 
spread  out  each  side  like  a  monster  can 
delabrum. 

"  Stop  a  minute,  Jack,"  he  cried  as  they 
left  the  sahuaro,  "  and  we  '11  have  some  fire 
works  in  honor  of  Miss  Annesley,  the  Fair 
Maid  of  the  Desert." 

There  was  a  silvery  cactus,  or  cholla, 
growing  near,  its  branches  covered  with  in 
numerable  shining  spines,  and  to  this  he 
applied  a  lighted  match.  In  a  moment  the 
whole  plant  was  in  a  blaze,  and  as  it  burned, 
snaps,  pops,  and  reports  were  heard  like  an 
immense  package  of  firecrackers  all  going 
off  at  the  same  time.  Mary  beat  a  retreat, 
laughingly  declaring  that  she  could  not 
bear  the  weight  of  her  honors,  and  entered 
the  supper-room  followed  by  miniature  sal- 


AN   ARIZONA   STAGE   RIDE  51 

vos  of  artillery  still  discharging  from  the 
cholla. 

A  strong  family  likeness  existed  among  all 
these  hostelries  on  the  desert,  the  only  dif 
ference  lying  in  the  rich  fancy  lavished  upon 
their  names  and  the  greater  or  less  degree 
of  their  dirt  and  bareness.  They  were  al 
ways  built  of  adobe,  or  sun-dried  brick,  the 
dining-rooms  were  floored  and  walled  with 
earth,  the  table  was  invariably  two  boards 
stretching  down  the  middle  of  the  apart 
ment,  and  was  generally  covered  with  oil 
cloth,  and  the  seats  were  long  benches  or 
wooden  stools.  Women  were  seldom  seen 
at  any  of  them,  napkins  were  never  pro 
vided,  and  such  artificial  luxuries  as  dress 
ing-rooms  had  not  yet  been  thought  of. 

While  the  gentlemen  strolled  about  and 
smoked  after  the  rough  meals,  Mary  sought 
some  distant  cactus,  and  hanging  her  travel 
ing  mirror  to  its  thorns  shook  out  her  tum 
bled  gown,  brushed  her  wavy  locks,  and 
afterwards  generally  managed  to  find  a  tin 
basin  of  water  which  she  could  set  on  a 
bench  by  the  door  and  use  for  completing 
her  toilet.  The  judge  declared  that  the  way 
she  kept  up  her  fashionable  appearance  was 
a  positive  marvel,  but  Mary  could  only 


52  UNDER   THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

groan  in  spirit  as  she  wondered  what  Celia 
would  think  of  her  swollen  lips,  cracked 
with  the  alkali  dust,  of  the  wrinkles  in  her 
skirt,  the  holes  in  her  gloves,  and  the  sad 
condition  of  her  poor  old  hat,  whose  coat  of 
Eoyal  Polish  was  ill  calculated  for  such  a 
journey. 

The  first  night  was  a  martyrdom  of  fa 
tigue,  of  aching  bones,  of  chilliness,  for  the 
cold  was  sharp  when  the  sun  had  set,  of 
sudden  jolts,  when  the  drowsy  head  came  in 
abrupt  contact  with  the  sides  of  the  stage, 
of  slipping  about  on  the  hard  seats,  and 
finally,  when  the  horses  stumbled,  of  a  swift 
collapse  in  a  heap  to  the  bottom  of  the 
vehicle,  from  which  humble  position  she  was 
extricated  by  the  judge,  who  said  she  re 
minded  him  of  a  pea  in  a  hot  skillet. 

As  she  was  recovering  from  this  last  mis 
hap  the  darkness  began  to  lift,  and  her 
kindly  guardian  suggested  in  a  low  voice 
that  as  they  were  about  to  change  horses 
she  should  climb  up  on  the  driver's  seat, 
and  see  an  Arizona  sunrise. 

The  prospect  of  change  was  welcome,  and 
Mary,  so  numb  with  fatigue  that  she  could 
hardly  keep  her  feet,  made  her  way  over 
her  sleeping  companions,  and  was  assisted 


AN   ARIZONA   STAGE   RIDE  53 

by  the  weather-beaten  driver  to  a  place  by 
his  side.  Her  companionship  was  evidently 
hailed  with  delight ;  she  was  tucked  under 
blankets  and  wolf-skins,  and  comforted  by 
the  new  position,  by  the  rush  of  free  air 
and  the  brightening  daylight,  she  returned 
to  her  own  cheery,  sensible  self,  remember 
ing  with  the  Psalmist  that  weeping  indeed 
may  endure  for  a  night,  but  joy  cometh  in 
the  morning. 

"This  yer  first  trip  over  the  desert?" 
asked  her  companion,  looking  with  some 
curiosity  at  the  blue  eyes,  round  cheek,  and 
dimpled  chin  beside  him. 

"  It 's  my  first  trip  anywhere.  I  'm  — 
what  was  it  Judge  Mason  called  it?  Oh, 
yes,  I  'm  a  '  tenderfoot.'  ' 

"  Wai,  I  guess  you  be  sure  enough,  but 
you  're  a  rustler  too,  I  bet,  or  you  would  n't 
be  takin'  this  trip.  —  Goin'  to  yer  folks  in 
Tontin  ?  " 

"  No,  I  'm  going  to  Mexico.  —  Oh,  look, 
the  sun's  just  rising!  See  how  pink  it  is 
over  there.  Oh,  how  beautiful,  how  beauti 
ful  ! "  cried  Mary,  clasping  her  hands  in  her 
fervor. 

"  'T  is  a  handsome  sight,"  agreed  the 
driver,  "  though  there  ain't  many  ter  see  it. 


54  UNDER   THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

It's  kind  o'  lonesome  an'  deserted  on  this 
road,  yer  see,  tarnation  cold  in  winter,  hot 
in  summer,  an'  dry  an'  dusty  all  the  year. 
There 's  times  when  I  'd  give  all  the  sunrises 
an'  sunsets  that  ever  was  for  a  night  in  bed 
like  a  Christian." 

Probably  Mary  would  have  sympathized 
with  the  very  natural  feeling  if  she  had 
heard  its  expression,  but  she  was  deaf  and 
blind  to  everything  but  the  glory  of  the 
coming  day.  They  were  descending  from  a 
high  plateau  to  a  valley  set  round  about 
with  mountain  peaks  which  the  sun  was 
painting  now  with  his  own  precious  gold. 
The  road  unrolled  below  them  like  a  silver 
ribbon,  half  lost  in  shadow  at  the  other  side 
of  the  valley,  the  sky  was  flushed  with  a 
tender  rose,  and  on  the  hard  dry  ground  the 
feet  of  the  horses  clattered  a  merry  greeting 
to  the  morning  freshness  and  the  return  of 
the  "sun  and  comforter."  Not  until  he 
leaped  dazzling  above  the  horizon  and  be 
came  his  ordinary  self  again  did  Mary  think 
of  conversation,  and  find  out  suddenly,  as 
she  confided  to  the  driver,  that  she  was  as 
hungry  as  a  Siberian  wolf.  There  was  only 
an  hour  to  breakfast,  he  said,  and  this  in 
terval  was  employed  in  learning  which  were 


AN  ARIZONA   STAGE  RIDE  55 

the  "off"  horses  and  which  the  "nigh" 
ones,  in  hearing  an  account  of  a  stirring 
fight  when  the  stage  was  "held  up"  the 
previous  year,  and  finally,  to  her  delight,  in 
finding  out  that  the  driver  had  worked  on  a 
ranch  in  the  San  Ramon  Mountains  a  few 
years  before,  and  had  often  seen  her  uncle 
Bertram. 

At  Brandy  City,  Jack,  very  pale  and 
haggard,  poor  fellow,  helped  her  down  from 
her  perch,  and  the  doctor,  unrolling  himself 
from  his  rugs,  gallantly  observed  that  she 
looked  like  the  rosy-fingered  Dawn,  which 
remark  was  really  no  more  poetic  than  it 
was  true,  for  Mary  was  gloveless  and  her 
hands  considerably  reddened  by  cold  and 
exposure. 

Breakfast  proved  a  welcome  tonic,  and 
the  spirits  of  the  party  were  so  much  re 
freshed  that  they  improvised  a  "comb  or 
chestra"  during  the  morning,  and  buzzed 
gayly  along  for  many  miles.  The  driver, 
openly  interested,  thrust  his  head  in  at  the 
stage  door  to  ask  the  judge  what  kind  of  an 
outfit  he  had  in  there  ("outfit"  being  an 
Arizona  term  covering  everything  from  a 
baby  to  a  threshing-machine),  and  opined 
subsequently  that  comb-music  was  a  blamed 
sight  better  'n  none. 


56  UNDER   THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

Dinner  at  Hang  Town  was  as  forbidding 
as  its  name,  proving  to  be  one  of  those 
meals  in  which,  as  Sydney  Smith  once  said, 
everything  is  sour  but  the  vinegar  and  every 
thing  cold  but  the  water.  As  there  is  com 
monly  an  intimate  connection  between  nour 
ishment  and  cheerfulness,  the  spirits  of  the 
party  waned  perceptibly  during  the  after 
noon.  Mary's  merry  tongue  was  silent,  and 
a  violent  attack  of  homesickness  took  pos 
session  of  her.  Jack  was  very  quiet  also, 
and  regarded  her  with  wistful  sympathy, 
exerting  himself,  after  a  time,  to  improvise 
an  ingenious  contrivance  from  a  shawl  and 
an  umbrella  to  keep  the  sun  out  of  her  eyes. 

When  this  was  in  place,  he  leaned  back 
in  his  seat,  looking  so  white  and  weary  that 
Mary  inwardly  reproached  herself  for  self 
ishly  giving  way  to  her  feelings,  and  re 
solved  to  turn  over  a  new  leaf  at  once. 

At  the  supper  station,  where  they  changed 
horses,  a  slight  ripple  of  excitement  was  ob 
servable,  and  upon  inquiry  it  proved  that  a 
gentleman  of  hasty  temper  had  just  shot  a 
friend  there  in  the  heat  of  argument.  This 
news  in  itself  was  rather  discouraging  to 
appetite,  and  Mary,  after  one  hasty  glance 
at  the  floor,  the  table,  and  the  man  who  was 


AN   ARIZONA  STAGE   RIDE  57 

bringing  in  the  dishes,  slipped  quietly  from 
the  room  and  fled  behind  the  hut,  where 
she  sank  on  the  sun-baked  ground,  and, 
overpowered  with  fatigue,  loss  of  sleep,  and 
nervousness,  forgot  all  about  that  new  leaf 
and  wept  a  good  many  bitter  tears. 

When  the  shower  was  well  over,  however, 
she  dried  her  eyes,  adjusted  her  dress,  and 
strolling  toward  the  stage  with  the  manner 
of  one  without  a  care,  suddenly  came  upon 
poor  Jack  Martin,  whom  she  had  entirely 
forgotten,  reclining  on  the  chopping-block, 
eyes  closed  and  head  thrown  back  on  the 
wood-pile. 

"  Why,  you  selfish  little  wretch,"  cried 
Mary  to  herself,  — "  you  that  are  well,  to 
go  off  and  cry  and  leave  that  poor  boy  to 
suffer  alone  !  I  'm  ashamed  of  you." 

"  Mr.  Martin,"  she  called,  hurrying  to  his 
side  ;  "are  you  feeling  ill  ?  can't  I  do  some 
thing  for  you?  " 

"  Not  ill,  —  just  a  bit  —  faint,"  said  the 
lad  in  gasps. 

Miss  Annesley,  even  at  this  early  age, 
was  nothing  if  she  was  not  prompt  and  de 
cided,  and  before  five  minutes  had  passed 
she  had  dragged  Dr.  Culver  from  his  sup 
per,  learning  that  nothing  serious  was  the 


58  UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

matter,  only  over-fatigue  and  probably  want 
of  nourishment,  had  applied  to  the  capitalist 
for  crackers,  of  which  she  knew  he  had  a 
store,  had  ordered  fresh  tea  to  be  made, 
with  so  peremptory  an  air  that  it  came  as  if 
by  magic,  and  armed  with  a  can  of  deviled 
ham  which  mysteriously  appeared,  she  sat 
on  the  other  side  of  the  chopping-block  and 
fed  her  patient  with  a  truly  motherly  air. 

Her  remedies  proving  wonderfully  effec 
tive,  she  prescribed  some  of  the  same  for 
herself,  and  when  at  dusk  they  were  all 
in  the  stage  again,  and  Judge  Mason  had 
propped  her  with  pillows  and  swathed  her 
in  rugs,  she  did,  —  yes,  —  she  cer — tain — ly 
did  feel  —  a  —  lit — tie  —  bit  —  slee — ,  .  .  . 
and  she  knew  no  more  till  midnight. 

The  next  morning  they  whiled  away  with 
Twenty  Questions,  guessing  successively  the 
"  Breeches  Bible,"  George  Washington's 
cocked  hat,  the  portrait  of  Anne  of  Cleves 
sent  to  Henry  the  Eighth,  the  left  eyebrow 
of  the  Venus  of  Milo,  and  the  tail  of  the 
dog  of  the  child  of  the  wife  of  the  Wild 
Man  of  Borneo. 

In  the  afternoon  they  rolled  by  a  series  of 
Indian  villages  with  their  low  mud  huts,  the 
squaws  carrying  baskets  to  and  fro  on  their 


AN   ARIZONA   STAGE   RIDE  59 

heads,  naked,  brown-skinned  babies  tum 
bling  on  the  ground,  and  young  girls,  with 
brilliantly  painted  faces  and  fringes  of  black 
hair  covering  their  eyebrows,  staring  under 
curved  palms  at  the  loaded  stage. 

There  was  another  night  of  clattering 
hoofs,  of  rumbling  wheels,  of  snapping 
whip  and  drivers'  calls,  of  jolt  and  jar,  of 
slip  and  bruise,  of  numbness  and  cold,  of 
restless  naps  and  sudden  wakings,  of  a  gen 
eral  atmosphere  of  nightmare  and  unreality, 
and  they  rolled  at  last  into  the  dusty  streets 
of  Tontin,  and  their  journey  was  over. 

So  completely  exhausted  was  Mary  by 
long  travel  and  want  of  sleep,  so  weary  and 
aching  in  every  bone,  that  she  could  scarcely 
have  told  you  afterwards  whether  she  bade 
adieu  to  her  companions  on  leaving  the 
stage,  whether  she  walked  or  drove  to  the 
judge's  door,  whether  or  not  he  carried  her 
up  the  steps,  and  whether  she  gave  the  greet 
ing  that  propriety  demanded  to  lovely  Mrs. 
Mason,  who  came  hurrying  to  meet  them. 

There  certainly  was  a  sweet  womanly 
somebody,  who  called  the  judge  her  dearest 
Kufus,  who  welcomed  Mary  warmly,  sug 
gested  bath  and  sleep  at  once,  conducted 
her  to  a  fresh,  quiet  room  with  a  bed  like  a 


60  UNDER   THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

drift  of  white  roses,  lowered  the  shades,  and 
bade  her  sleep  till  night  if  she  could. 

Mary  accepted  all  these  kind  offices  as  in 
a  dream,  made  ready  for  bed,  half  stupefied 
with  drowsiness,  and  only  had  time  to  give 
one  swift  thought  to  Glen  Ellen,  say  one 
brief  word  of  thanksgiving  for  the  first 
stage  of  her  journey  completed,  when  sleep 
descended  upon  her  suddenly,  heavily,  as  an 
eagle  swoops  down  from  the  sky. 

Not  the  shadow  of  a  dream  troubled  those 
slumbers,  and  Mrs.  Mason,  peeping  in  at 
the  door  when  the  vesper  bells  were  ringing, 
saw  the  little  maid  just  awakened,  leaning 
back  upon  her  pillows,  and  looking  about 
her  with  bewildered  gaze  as  if  saying,  like 
the  old  woman  in  the  rhyme :  - 

"  Lawks  a  massy  on  me, 
Can  this  be  I  ?  " 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A    BREATHING    SPACE. 

"THE  Seven  Sleepers,"  remarked  the 
judge  next  morning  at  breakfast,  "Maxi- 
mian,  Malchus,  Martinian,  Dionysius,  John, 
Serapion,  and  Constantine,  went  to  bed  in 
250  A.  D.  and  slept  sweetly  till  the  year  479. 
I  mention  this  merely  as  a  matter  of  general 
interest,  ladies,  and  not  of  course  because  it 
has  any  personal  application." 

"  Nonsense,  Rufus,"  cried  his  wife,  laugh 
ing.  "  Miss  Annesley  sha'n't  be  likened  to 
Serapchus  or  Maltiminian  or  any  of  those 
unpronounceables.  She  slept  most  of  yes 
terday  and  all  last  night  because  she  was 
tired  out  and  her  conscience  was  good,  and 
see  the  effect  in  her  color  this  morning." 

"  Oh,  don't  say  Miss  Annesley,"  pleaded 
the  girl.  "  I  feel  as  if  no  one  had  called  me 
Mary  for  years.  Please  do,  you  and  the 
judge,  while  I  'm  here." 

"  '  Call  me  Daphne,  call  me  Chloris, 
Call  me  Lalage  or  Doris, 
Only,  only  call  me  thine ! ' " 


62  UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

quoted  the  judge  with  passionate  emphasis, 
helping  his  guest  to  steak. 

"  Don't  mind  him,  Mary,"  patting  the 
girl's  hand.  "  He  evidently  rose  early  to 
read  Bartlett's  '  Familiar  Quotations,'  and 
he  's  such  a  frontiersman  now  that  he  would 
probably  have  called  you  Mary  to-day  and 
Polly  to-morrow,  without  any  encourage 
ment." 

"  I  'm  perfectly  willing  to  call  her  mine 
any  day,"  said  the  judge.  "  I  wish  she 
belonged  to  us  and  we'd  have  her  bright 
eyes  to  light  the  house  while  the  boy  is 
away.  Wouldn't  he  enjoy  her,  eh,  wife? 

"  And  by  the  way,  my  dear,"  turning  to 
Mary,  "  not  only  Dr.  Culver  and  Jack 
Martin,  but  those  other  gallant  fellows,  all 
four  of  them,  called  especially  to  see  you 
last  night." 

"To  see  me?"  in  blank  amazement. 
"  Why,  what  for,  and  how  did  they  know  I 
was  here  ?  " 

"You  don't  know  yet  what  a  rarity  a 
young  lady  is  in  these  parts,"  said  Mrs. 
Mason.  "  There  's  not  an  unmarried  man 
in  the  county,  between  the  ages  of  eighteen 
and  forty,  who  won't  know  by  to-morrow 
night  that  there's  a  blue-eyed  little  girl 


A  BREATHING  SPACE  63 

from  California,  staying  at  the  judge's  in 
Tontin.  But  how  do  you  like  the  house, 
my  dear?  Don't  you  think  we  manage  to 
make  ourselves  comfortable  on  the  desert  ?  " 

Mary's  appreciative  eyes  had  already 
noted  the  fine  proportions  of  the  room,  the 
deep  window-seats,  the  soft  carpet  and  cur 
tains,  and  the  dainty  breakfast-table,  and 
had  admired  the  night  before  the  drawing- 
room  with  its  pictures  and  books,  its  harp 
and  piano.  She  said  now,  and  said  truly, 
that  she  thought  the  house  beautiful,  as 
far  as  she  had  visited  it,  and  that  it  seemed 
even  more  charming  in  contrast  with  the  un 
promising,  flat-roofed  buildings  she  had  seen 
from  her  window  that  morning. 

"  Take  her  out  to  see  the  town,  this 
morning,  Mattie,"  said  the  judge  as  he  rose 
from  the  table,  "  and  if  you  want  the  horses 
in  the  afternoon,  I  '11  speak  to  Larry  as  I 
go  out.  I  cannot  be  at  home  before  five 
o'clock,  I  fear,"  looking  at  his  watch. 

"  Oh,  please  wait  just  a  moment,  sir," 
said  Mary  timidly.  "  I  don't  want  to 
trouble  you,  but  I  feel  as  if  I  ought  to 
arrange  to  go  to  Ceritas  at  once.  I  pro 
mised  to  be  there  the  first  of  December,  you 
know,  and  "  — 


64  UNDER   THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

The  judge  took  her  hands  in  his. 

"My  dear  child,"  he  said,  "you're  not 
going  to  Ceritas  until  your  friends  come  for 
you.  You  can  write  in  a  few  days  and  tell 
them  you  're  here,  but  we  want  you  to  stay 
with  us  and  make  a  little  visit  first.  If 
you're  so  eager  to  begin  teaching,  you 
can  give  young  Martin  Spanish  lessons.  I 
promised  his  father  I  'd  keep  him  out  of 
mischief  while  he  was  here.  Now  don't 
worry,  little  girl,  and  have  a  good  time  to 
day.  Good-by,  sweet  wife,"  and  he  closed 
the  door  behind  him. 

"No  indeed,  Mary,"  added  Mrs.  Mason 
eagerly,  "  you  are  not  to  say  another  word, 
for  now  we  know  you  we  can't  think  of 
letting  you  go  for  a  month  anyway.  They 
can't  miss  in  Ceritas  what  they  Ve  never 
had,  and  we  are  so  lonely  in  my  boy's  ab 
sence  that  it  will  be  sweet  to  have  a  child  in 
the  house  again.  Now  can  you  amuse  your 
self  for  half  an  hour,  while  I  do  some  house 
keeping  ?  and  then  we  '11  go  out  and  see  the 
town." 

It  was  after  ten  o'clock  when  Mrs.  Mason 
called  her  guest,  but  the  intervening  time 
had  not  all  been  spent  in  looking  over  the 
books  and  trying  the  piano,  for  in  Mary's 


A   BREATHING  SPACE  65 

pocket  as  they  went  out,  lay  a  sealed  enve 
lope  neatly  addressd  to 

SeTiora  Dona 

Barbara  F.  de  Vazquez, 

Ceritas,  Sonora, 

Mexico. 

When  the  door  was  closed  upon  Judge 
Mason's  house,  it  differed  in  no  respect,  so 
far  as  the  front  was  concerned,  from  a  dozen 
others  in  the  block.  It  was  a  long,  low, 
flat-roofed  dwelling,  of  the  packing-box 
order  of  architecture,  built  of  adobe  bricks 
which  had  been  plastered  and  tinted  a  pale 
yellow. 

An  adobe  wall,  fully  eight  feet  high, 
began  at  the  corner  of  the  house  and  encir 
cled  it  at  the  rear,  where  from  the  broad 
veranda,  with  its  rugs  and  hammocks,  could 
be  seen  the  stables,  a  diligently  tended 
grass-plot,  and  a  few  struggling  trees. 

Nothing  of  all  this  could  be  noted  from 

O 

the  street,  and  Mary  remarked,  as  they 
walked  briskly  along,  lifting  their  skirts 
from  the  white  dust,  that  the  houses  were 
as  tantalizing  as  a  row  of  books  with  unlet 
tered  backs. 

They  met  a  few  elderly  Mexican  women, 
their  black  shawls  drawn  tightly  over  their 


6G  UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

heads  and  shoulders,  a  Jesuit  priest  in  a 
long,  flapping  cassock,  reading  his  breviary 
as  he  walked,  and  as  they  neared  the  busi 
ness  portion  of  the  town,  a  tall,  slender  lad 
hurried  across  the  street  to  intercept  them, 
and  breathlessly  expressed  his  pleasure  at 
the  meeting. 

"  Are  you  going  to  show  Miss  Annesley 
the  town,  Mrs.  Mason  ?  "  he  asked.  "  May 
I  come  too  ?  Shall  I  be  in  the  way  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all,  Mr.  Martin.  We  should  be 
delighted  to  have  you,  should  we  not,  Mary  ? 
There,  children,  there  's  your  first  sight." 

At  this  moment  four  mouse-gray,  fuzzy, 
white-nosed,  long-eared,  serious  little  don 
keys  came  slowly  up  the  street,  driven  by  a 
Mexican  in  snow-white  shirt  and  trousers, 
and  broad  felt  hat. 

Each  patient  little  beast  was  loaded  with 
sticks  of  wood,  piled  in  a  mountain  far 
above  his  back,  and  fastened  under  his  pack- 
saddle  with  straps  and  strips  of  rawhide 
stretched  almost  to  the  point  of  bursting. 

44  They  tell  me  there  's  a  great  art  in  put 
ting  on  those  loads  so  that  they  won't  slip," 
said  Mrs.  Mason.  44  Mr.  Martin  will  prob 
ably  have  a  chance  to  try  it,  if  the  judge 
takes  him  up  to  the  4  Last  Chance.'  " 


A  BREATHING  SPACE  67 

"  There  's  a  mule-team  just  come  in  with 
supplies  for  the  mine,"  said  Jack,  eagerly. 
"  I  was  going  to  see  it  unloaded  when  I  met 
you.  Can't  we  go  down  now  ?  " 

They  traversed  presently  a  block  in  which 
were  three  drinking- saloons,  a  fourth  being 
across  the  way  and  a  fifth  within  sight, 
turned  a  corner,  and  in  the  middle  of  the 
narrow  street  stood  the  mule-team :  ten  sleek, 
handsome  creatures,  harnessed  to  a  long 
dray  or  cart,  loaded  with  goods  piled  higher 
than  the  roofs  of  the  neighboring  buildings. 

Unloading  had  not  yet  begun,  and  would 
evidently  be  a  long  and  laborious  process, 
for  there  were  countless  bags,  barrels,  boxes, 
and  bundles,  heaped  one  upon  another  like 
the  stones  in  a  monument,  the  dizzy  eleva 
tion  being  crowned  by  a  couple  of  trunks, 
and  the  whole  structure  powdered  with 
dust  so  white  as  to  suggest  an  Alaskan  gla 
cier. 

To  watch  the  taking  down  of  such  an  edi 
fice  would  apparently  have  been  a  half-day's 
task,  and  Mrs.  Mason  carried  the  young 
people  off  to  see  some  of  the  shops,  conduct 
ing  them  through  a  labyrinth  of  streets  as 
like  to  the  first  ones  as  squares  on  a  checker 
board,  and  only  to  be  distinguished  from 


08  UNDER   THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

one  another,  as  Jack  said,  by  the  fantastic 
names  of  the  numberless  liquor  saloons. 

Mary  thought  she  had  never  seen  so  many 
dogs,  and  certainly  never  so  many  men,  most 
of  them  young  and  personable,  and  ready 
with  smiles  and  lifted  hats  when  Mrs.  Ma 
son  glanced  their  way.  It  was  the  young 
lady's  private  opinion  that  they  looked  very 
nice  and  friendly,  but  Jack  said  indignantly 
that  there  must  be  mighty  little  business 
going  on  in  town,  or  those  fellows  would  n't 
have  so  much  leisure  to  stand  around  and 
gape  ut  ladies. 

The  Catholic  church  and  Protestant  chapel 
were  visited,  and  the  grove  of  cottonwoods 
by  the  little  stream,  where  there  was  a  dan 
cing  pavilion  and  the  band  played  on  sum 
mer  evenings ;  and  then,  before  returning  to 
luncheon,  a  call  was  made  at  the  post-office. 
Here  —  oh,  joy  so  great  that  the  girlish  heart 
could  hardly  contain  it  —  were  two  fat  letters 
for  Miss  Mary  Annesley,  and  the  walk  home 
seemed  leagues  long  with  these  unopened 
treasures  in  hand. 

There  was  a  stately,  bare-legged  Indian 
brave  strolling  ahead  of  them  part  of  the 
way,  attired  in  the  usual  red  loin-cloth,  but 
sporting  a  further  adornment  in  the  rim  of 


A   BREATHING  SPACE  G9 

a  silk  hat  which  he  wore  jauntily  on  one 
side  of  his  head.  Jack  was  overcome  with 
glee  at  this  costume,  and  Mary,  even  in  her 
absorbed  condition,  gave  it  the  tribute  of  a 
merry  laugh,  which  was  heard  again,  in  spite 
of  all  her  efforts,  when,  as  they  passed  him, 
he  was  found  to  have  a  hole  in  the  cartilage 
of  his  nose,  through  which  a  brilliant  carna 
tion  was  thrust. 

Once  in  her  room  the  letters  were  de 
voured  to  see  if  all  was  well.  Yes,  aunt 
Ellen  was  much  as  usual,  and  able  to  do 
a  little  about  the  house,  but  missing  her 
darlins:  more  than  words  could  tell.  Celia's 

O 

letter  to  her  "  precious  Molliekin  "  reported 
herself  as  in  superb  condition,  and  as  work 
ing  with  Miss  Barton  like  a  whole  lodge  of 
beavers.  Nothing  much  had  happened  since 
she  left.  Oh  yes,  the  Gardiners  had  just 
come  in  to  say  they  had  sold  their  place  very 
unexpectedly  to  a  young  Eastern  lawyer 
with  a  delicate  throat,  who  wanted  to  try 
California  climate.  His  name  was  Hunter, 
—  Francis  Hunter ;  and  his  mother  was  a 
certain  high  caste  Boston  Brahmin  whom 
Mrs.  Gardiner  mentioned  with  bated  breath. 
The  letter  closed  with  a  whole  row  of 
inky  kisses,  and  at  the  bottom  of  the.  sheet 


70  UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

was  a  sketch  of  the  vine-wreathed  gate  of 
Glen  Ellen,  with  a  huge  sign  hanging  there 
from  on  which  was  printed  in  bold  letters, 


CELIA   MOORE,  Floral  Decorator, 
WEDDINGS  A  SPECIALTY. 


A  spider-waisted  exquisite  with  a  tasseled 
cane  and  a  silk  hat  was  amazedly  regarding 
this  legend  through  his  single  eye-glass,  while 
with  one  delicate,  aristocratic  hand  he  seemed 
waving  away  the  thought  of  neighborship 
with  such  a  person. 

"  Evidently  Francis  Hunter,"  laughed 
Mary.  "  Well,  Celia  would  n't  have  time 
for  him  anyway,  so  it 's  no  matter  if  he  does 
scorn  her." 

The  dear  California  letters  added  fresh 
fuel  to  the  fire  of  homesickness  smouldering 
in  the  girl's  breast,  but  life  in  this  little 
frontier  town  was  so  gay  and  so  novel,  the 
people  so  hospitable  and  Judge  and  Mrs. 
Mason  so  kind,  that  she  could  not  indulge 
in  long  seasons  of  misery.  Every  after 
noon  there  were  drives  on  the  level  roads 
that  stretched  miles  away  through  cactus  and 
sage-brush,  roads  as  firm  and  smooth  as 


A  BREATHING  SPACE  71 

those  of  a  park,  and  so  hard  that  the  horses' 
hoofs  sounded  on  them  like  the  roll  of  a 
drum.  The  cavalry  post,  Fort  Gordon,  six 
miles  away,  was  often  visited,  and  Mary 
feasted  her  eyes  on  epaulettes,  brass  buttons, 
gold  fringes,  blue  uniforms,  yellow-lined  cav 
alry  capes,  and  dashing  officers  on  prancing 
steeds.  The  regiment  was  one  that  had  seen 
much  Indian  service,  and  the  general  com 
manding  took  rather  a  fancy  to  little  Miss 
Annesley,  and  delighted  in  telling  her  tales 
of  "  hair-breadth  'scapes  i'  the  imminent 
deadly  breach,"  and  in  seeing  her  blue  eyes 
dilate  till  they  were  veritable  round  O's  of 
surprise  and  excitement.  There  were  walks, 
too,  by  the  tiny,  willow  -  fringed  river,  the 
only  green  spot  near  this  arid  town  set  in 
mid-desert ;  there  were  evening  parties  and 
hosts  of  young  men  callers,  so  many  that 
not  even  the  vainest  of  girls  could  have  fan 
cied  their  number  a  tribute  to  her  charms. 

While  Mary  sang  and  danced  and  walked 
and  drove,  however,  there  was  a  constant 
undercurrent  of  anxiety  in  her  mind  about 
Ceritas.  Why  did  she  not  hear  from  "  Miss 
Barbara,"  and  why  did  they  not  come  for  her 
to  begin  her  school?  Tontin  people,  those 
who  had  visited  Sonora  at  all,  were  unani- 


72  UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

mous  in  considering  her  destination  a  dirty, 
sleepy  little  hamlet  entirely  remote  from  civ 
ilization,  but  Mary's  work  was  waiting  for 
her  there,  and  with  each  home  letter  she 
received,  revealing  as  it  did  unconsciously 
the  heavy  cloud  of  care  resting  on  the  house 
hold,  she  took  a  firmer  grip  of  her  resolu 
tion  to  begin  her  work  soon,  if  she  had  to 
walk  to  Ceritas  to  do  it.  Judge  and  Mrs. 
Mason,  on  the  contrary,  were  entirely  un 
concerned  about  the  delay;  said  that  Mr. 
Vazquez  was  probably  away  on  business, 
that  she  would  doubtless  be  called  for  in 
good  time,  and  that  there  was  no  occasion 
for  anxiety  if  she  was  never  delivered  at  all. 
In  that  case  they  should  take  possession 
of  her  to  pay  charges,  and  a  very  good  bar 
gain  it  would  be,  to  be  sure. 

A  week  after  the  letter  to  Mrs.  Vazquez 
was  posted,  the  judge  departed  for  the  "  Last 
Chance  "  mines,  taking  Jack  Martin  with 
him. 

"  You  '11  probably  hear  from  Ceritas  in  a 
few  days,"  he  said  to  Mary,  his  foot  already 
in  the  stirrup,  "  and  when  I  come  back  I'll 
see  that  you  get  off  comfortably.  Be  a  good 
girl,  and  don't  abuse  my  absence  by  breaking 
every  heart  in  town." 


A  BREATHING   SPACE  73 

Jack,  who  with  fatherly  solemnity  had 
frequently  warned  her  against  her  impatience 
to  be  gone,  advising  rather  that  she  should 
remain  in  Tontin  altogether,  clattered  up  at 
this  juncture,  brave  in  a  flapping  Mexican 
sombrero,  a  yard  and  a  quarter  round  the 
brim,  and  decked  with  silver  cords  and  tas 
sels.  His  waist  was  swathed  in  a  red  silk 
sash  into  which  a  pistol  was  thrust,  and  thus 
attired,  and  with  his  jingling  spurs,  he  made 
a  most  dramatic  and  picturesque  appear 
ance  as  he  jumped  from  his  horse  to  bid 
adieu  to  the  ladies. 

"  Good-by,  Miss  Annesley,"  he  said,  hold 
ing  her  hand  with  a  tight,  boyish  squeeze 
for  a  moment ;  "  I  'm  sorry  to  go,  if  only  for 
a  few  days,  but  they  say  it  '11  do  me  good  up 
there,  and  I  must  get  well,  you  know.  We  '11 
have  lots  of  fine  rides  when  I  come  back. 
Good-by  again.  Good-by,  Mrs.  Mason." 

Mary  watched  him  out  of  sight  with  a 
curious  and  unexpected  lump  mounting  in 
her  throat.  "  Pie  's  such  a  nice  boy,"  she 
thought,  "and  he  looked  paler  than  ever 
under  that  umbrella  of  a  hat.  Oh,  I  do 
hope  he  '11  get  better.  ...  I  wonder  if  I 
shall  be  gone  before  he  comes  back.  .  .  . 
Mrs.  Mason,"  she  called  after  a  moment,  "I 


74  UNDER   THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

think  I  '11  go  down  to  the  post-office  now,  if 
you  don't  mind.  I  won't  be  long." 

"  Very  well,  dear,"  sounded  from  an  inner 
room,  "  and  will  you  tell  Larry  as  you  go, 
that  we  shall  want  the  horses  at  three 
o'clock  ?  We  '11  drive  to  the  Post  and  hear 
the  band  this  afternoon." 

Such  curious  ways  have  things  of  happen 
ing  in  this  topsy-turvy  world  that  the  first 
thing  that  met  Mary's  eyes  as  she  unlocked 
the  mail  box  was  a  letter  from  Ceritas. 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  she  groaned,  "  just  as 
the  judge  has  gone,  and  I  can't  get  any  ad 
vice,  and  can't  bid  him  good-by  !  Is  n't  it 
too  provoking  !  " 

She  read  the  letter  as  she  walked  home, 
too  absorbed  in  its  contents  to  notice  that 
Tom  Travers  flew  out  of  his  office  door  to 
bow  to  her,  that  Mr.  Archer  nearly  tumbled 
downstairs  in  his  anxiety  to  reach  the  street 
before  she  passed,  and  that  Dick  Bolton, 
whom  she  really  liked,  stood  hesitating  at 
the  corner,  ready  to  "  light  her  on  her  home 
ward  way,"  if  given  the  least  encourage 
ment. 

What  were  Tom,  or  Dick,  or  Harry  to 
her,  however,  in  her  present  state  and  in 
view  of  the  contents  of  the  letter  ? 


A  BREATHING  SPACE  75 

Mrs.  Vazquez  wrote  that  her  husband  was 
absent  on  business,  and  that  she  had  waited 
a  few  days  before  answering  Mary's  letter, 
hoping  to  be  able  to  come  for  her  in  person, 
but  had  found  it  impossible,  as  their  friend 
and  next-door  neighbor,  Mr.  Altamirano, 
who  might  have  escorted  her,  was  just  now 
at  his  post  in  the  State  Legislature.  Mary 
must  therefore  come  down  in  the  stage  ;  it 
was  a  two  days'  trip,  but  there  was  no  night 
travel,  and  on  the  afternoon  of  the  second 
day  she  would  meet  her  at  Loma  Prieta, 
fifteen  miles  from  Ceritas,  and  bring  her 
home  herself. 

Mary's  heart  fell  to  the  sinking-point  as 
she  thought  of  another  stage  journey,  unat 
tended  this  time,  and  she  walked  a  mile  into 
the  country  to  regain  her  courage  and  study 
how  to  present  the  matter  to  Mrs.  Mason  in 
the  best  light. 

Even  this  best  light,  when  subsequently 
turned  on,  was  apparently  regarded  as  but 
a  farthing-candle  by  that  lady,  who  declared 
that  the  journey  was  not  to  be  considered 
for  a  moment,  that  the  judge  would  never 
hear  of  it  if  he  were  at  home,  that  it  was 
not  safe,  and  that  she  could  not  think  of 
allowing  it. 


76  UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

Mary  promised  to  consider  the  matter  for 
a  while,  and  did  so  to  such  purpose  that 
she  posted  a  letter  before  breakfast  next 
morning,  announcing  that  she  would  be  at 
Loma  Prieta  on  the  fourth  day  from  that 
date.  When  it  had  dropped  into  the  box 
with  a  dull  sound  that  seemed  to  settle  the 
matter,  she  bravely  made  her  way  into  the 
stage-office  and  engaged  her  passage,  leav 
ing  the  agent  rubbing  his  eyes  in  surprise 
at  the  youth  of  this  early-risen  business 
woman. 

The  die  was  cast,  and  Mrs.  Mason  had 
nothing  to  do  but  bewail  the  decision,  which 
she  did  to  such  purpose,  being  manfully 
assisted  by  all  callers,  that  her  poor  charge 
felt  as  if  she  were  about  to  take  as  preca 
rious  a  journey  as  the  Three  Wise  Men  of 
Gotham.  Still  she  grasped  her  courage  in 
both  hands,  made  her  preparations,  and 
wrote  her  home  letters,  closing  each  one 
with  the  doubly  underlined  warning  :  - 

"  THE  SONORA  MAIL  GOES  OUT  EVERY 
MONDAY  AND  IT  TAKES  FOUR  DAYS  TO  GET 

A    LETTER   THERE   FROM    CORONA.       Vct'bum 

sap." 

She  said  not  a  word,  of  course,  brave  lit 
tle  maid,  of  any  of  her  fears  or  heart-sink- 


A  BREATHING  SPACE  77 

ings,  and  affected  to  consider  her  trip  with 
perfect  unconcern. 

The  eventful  Monday  came  ;  Mrs.  Mason 
accompanied  her  to  the  stage-office  and  bade 
her,  a  tender  farewell ;  she  climbed  into  a 
rickety  buckboard,  drawn  by  two  wicked- 
looking  mustangs,  and  was  whisked  out  of 
sight  in  a  moment,  sped  upon  her  way  by  a 
dozen  waving  hats  and  a  dozen  good-bys 
from  as  many  manly  throats. 

"  It  is  done  !  "  thought  Mary  :  - 

.  .  .  "  '  We  are  gone,  over  bank,  bush,  and  scaur ; 
They  '11   have   fleet  steeds  that  follow !  '   quoth  young 
Lochinvar." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

HO,    FOR   CERITAS  ! 

SURELY  never  was  vehicle  so  well  de 
signed  for  the  discomfort  of  travelers  as  the 
Ceritas  buckboard  !  It  was  without  springs, 
it  was  dusty  and  dirty,  there  were  gaping 
holes  in  its  floor,  its  canvas  curtains  were 
torn  in  ribbons,  its  leather  seats  were  slit 
and  the  stuffing  was  oozing  out,  its  woolly 
steeds  were  gaunt  and  evidently  came  of  a 
nameless  race,  and  its  driver  was  a  tousle- 
headed  youth,  wrapped  in  a  blanket.  All 
these  details  were  noted  by  Mary's  quick 
eye,  but  she  was  too  young  to  find  them 
anything  but  novel  and  amusing,  and  too 
inexperienced  to  foresee  that  they  boded  ill 
for  either  a  safe  or  a  pleasant  journey. 

When  the  stage-office  had  been  left  a  few 
squares  behind,  they  stopped  on  a  corner  to 
take  up  a  swarthy,  disreputable  looking  fel 
low,  who,  with  a  surprised  and  rather  sinis 
ter  glance  at  the  youthful  passenger,  took 
his  seat  by  the  driver.  At  the  outskirts  of 


HO,  FOR  CERITAS  79 

the  town  they  stopped  again  at  the  door  of 
a  well-kept  house,  and  an  elderly  Mexican 
gentleman,  with  a  basket,  a  bag,  and  a  bun 
dle  of  traveling  shawls,  installed  himself  in 
the  stage.  As  he  took  his  seat,  he  addressed 
a  few  courteous  words  in  English  to  Mary, 
who  was  the  more  delighted  to  hear  them, 
as  she  had  already  found  that  her  compre 
hension  of  Spanish  conversation  was  rather 
limited.  Here  was  an  interpreter  for  the 
journey,  and  evidently  a  gentleman  too,  if 
her  intuitions  did  not  deceive  her. 

Uncertain  what  conventionality  demanded 
of  her,  if  indeed  conventionality  cut  any 
figure  in  an  unescorted  journey  into  Mexico 
at  her  age,  she  looked  out  at  the  landscape, 
though  she  could  not  help  being  conscious 
that  her  companion  was  staring  at  her  with 
a  puzzled  gaze.  He  soon  opened  a  conver 
sation  which  greatly  relieved  her  embarrass 
ment,  for  in  its  course  she  learned  that  he 
was  the  Mexican  consul  for  Tontin,  that  his 
name  was  Alvarado,  and,  joyful  information, 
that  he  was  going  to  Ceritas  ! 

When  he  discovered  on  his  part  that 
Ceritas  was  also  her  destination,  and  that 
she  was  traveling  alone,  he  shook  his  head 
and  murmured  under  his  breath  some  Span- 


80  UNDER  THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

ish  words  which  Mary  only  partly  caught. 
They  sounded  like  an  appeal  to  the  saints 
above,  though  why  the  blessed  should  be 
called  upon  just  then  was  not  clear  to  her 
mind. 

Nor  did  she  understand  for  months  what 
happened  directly  afterwards,  though  it  was 
a  deed  of  chivalry  and  a  credit  to  the  blood 
of  all  the  Alvarados.  The  consul  stopped 
the  stage;  he  alighted,  and  apparently  re 
quested  the  ruffian  on  the  front  seat  to 
alight  also  ;  they  held  a  parley,  the  consul 
pointing  toward  Tontin  ;  the  ruffian  shook 
his  head  ;  the  consul  held  out  a  handful  of 
silver  and  stamped  his  foot ;  his  antagonist 
looked  at  it  disdainfully  and  shrugged  his 
shoulders ;  the  consul  held  out  more  silver 
and  a  package  of  cigarettes;  the  ruffian 
seemed  to  regard  this  offering  with  favor, 
pocketed  it  at  once,  and  walked  away  in  the 
direction  of  the  town. 

Mary  idly  looked  on  at  the  scene  without 
understanding  the  dialogue,  thinking  how 
quickly  they  talked,  how  dramatic  the  con 
sul's  gestures  were,  and  how  interested  the 
driver  seemed,  though  she  could  not  see  why 
he  kept  looking  at  her.  She  could  not  but 
wonder  what  the  subject  under  discussion 


HO,  FOR  CERITAS  81 

might  be,  finally  deciding  that  the  consul 
must  have  forgotten  some  important  duty, 
though  it  seemed  strange  he  should  confide 
it  to  that  drunken-looking  rascal.  Never 
mind,  she  must  not  be  too  curious,  and  she 
fell  into  musings  about  Ceritas,  wished  Prin 
cess  Celia  were  there  to  sketch  the  stage, 
and  finally,  returning  to  present  things, 
thanked  her  kindly  stars  for  her  companion, 
though,  indeed,  she  was  too  young  to  realize 
what  good  cause  she  had  for  gratitude. 

"  You  do  not  object  to  a  cigarrito, 
madam?"  asked  a  grave  voice  at  her  elbow. 

"Oh  no,  sir,  no  indeed.  Who  could 
object  to  it  in  an  open  stage  ? "  answered 
Mary,  inwardly  chuckling  at  being  called 
madam,  and  also  at  the  fact  that  the  driver 
had  been  smoking  like  a  chimney  ever  since 
they  started. 

"  You  American  ladies  are  very  complai 
sant,"  rolling  a  cigarette  with  a  practiced 
hand,  "  and  very  brave  too.  I  doubt  if  you 
would  find  any  of  my  countrywomen  willing 
to  undertake  a  journey  like  this  at  your  age, 
and  alone." 

"  Perhaps  not,  sir ;  but  I  did  n't  know  any 
thing  about  frontier  travel  until  I  reached 
Yuma,  and  then  of  course  I  had  to  go  to 
Ceritas,  for  I  'd  promised,  you  see !  " 


UNDER   THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

"  To  promise  and  to  perform  are  the  same 
thing,  then,  senorita?" 

"I  mean  they  shall  be,  sir,  with  me," 
with  a  brave  look  into  the  dark  face. 

"  Good,  good,  my  child  !  I  foresee  much 
happiness  for  my  little  compatriots  when 
they  learn  of  you.  It  is  a  beautiful  country, 
mine,  but,"  with  a  sigh,  "it  is  poor,  it  is 
harassed  by  political  troubles,  and  education 
is  very  backward." 

Then  there  was  a  silence,  —  Mr.  Alvarado 
lost  in  thought,  his  half-shut  eyes  gleaming 
through  a  cloud  of  smoke,  and  Mary  begin 
ning  to  look  about  her  to  find  that  a  change 
in  the  landscape  had  already  taken  place. 
The  sage-brush  had  been  replaced  by  a 
short,  autumn-tinted  grass,  whose  pale  yellow 
stalks  and  fringed  tips  showed  a  peculiar 
lustrous  sheen  as  they  bent  and  rose  to  the 
breeze.  The  course  of  a  distant  stream  was 
outlined  by  a  waving  ribbon  of  cottonwood 
trees,  the  far-off  mountains  were  softly  blue 
like  those  around  Corona,  and  the  hard 
smooth  road  offered  so  little  resistance  to 
the  wheels  of  the  buckboard  that  one  almost 
felt  as  if  flying  through  space.  Mr.  Alva 
rado  talked  a  little  now  and  then  about  Mr. 
Vazquez,  who  seemed  to  be  a  great  friend, 


HO,  FOR  CERITAS  83 

spoke  of  Dona  Barbarita,  as  he  called  her, 
whom  he  evidently  admired,  described  Ceri- 
tas,  and  told  some  thrilling  Apache  stories, 
which  were  much  more  to  his  companion's 
taste  on  that  gloriously  sunny  morning  than 
they  might  have  been  as  the  evening  dusk 
began  to  fall. 

They  stopped  for  dinner  near  the  frontier 
at  a  half-deserted  village,  many  of  whose 
houses  were  a  mass  of  crumbling  adobe 
bricks.  A  swinging  sign  bearing  the  name 
"  The  Lone  Star  "  marked  the  place  of  re 
freshment,  which  even  to  experienced  eyes 
exhibited  certain  novel  and  unique  features. 
The  entrance  was  evidently  a  butcher's  shop, 
or  a  place  for  cold  storage,  in  which  hung 
the  sanguinary  carcasses  of  several  defunct 
animals.  The  dining-room,  into  which  this 
apartment  opened,  was  as  usual  mud-floored 
and  bare-tabled,  while  several  friendly  hens 
were  using  the  chairs  as  roosting-places. 
The  dishes  upon  being  handled  felt  so  rough 
with  matter  out  of  place  that  an  instanta 
neous  distrust  of  the  food  was  engendered ; 
so  Mary  took  refuge  in  eggs,  being  ignorant, 
fortunately,  of  the  modern  theory  that  mi 
crobes  penetrate  even  their  shells. 

A    guitar    sounded    across    the    deserted 


84  UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

square  while  they  rested  on  the  porch  of 
"  The  Lone  Star,'*  and  a  fascinating  Span 
ish  song  was  several  times  repeated  in  a 
clear  tenor  voice.  It  was  a  passionate  adieu 
to  some  loved  one  whose  name  appeared  to 
be  Semiramis,  and  caught  Mary's  musical 
fancy  so  quickly  that  she  hummed  it  again 
and  again  during  the  afternoon.  Hearing 
this,  Mr.  Alvarado,  whose  memory,  like  that 
of  most  of  his  countrymen,  seemed  to  be  a 
storehouse  of  old  ballads  and  folk  songs, 
taught  her  the  words ;  and  succeeding  bril 
liantly  in  this  effort  went  on  to  investigate 
her  knowledge  of  Spanish,  made  her  talk  to 
him  and  taught  her  new  phrases,  while  the 
driver,  who  up  to  this  time  had  been  little 
but  a  pillar  of  cloud  and  as  silent  as  one, 
emerged  from  his  concealment  and  showed 
his  white  teeth  in  a  laugh  occasionally. 

Thus  passed  what  was  really  a  pleasant 
day,  for  the  consul,  kindly  man,  exerted 
himself  to  amuse  his  little  fellow-traveler, 
and  in  so  doing  seemed  to  reap  the  reward 
of  virtue  and  entertain  himself  the  while. 
Supper  was  frugally  eaten  from  the  respec 
tive  lunch-baskets  as  they  jogged  along,  and 
at  dusk  they  again  changed  horses,  the  place 
where  they  were  to  spend  the  night  being 


HO,  FOR  CERITAS  85 

about  four  hours  distant,  according  to  the 
driver's  calculation. 

Not  long  had  the  new  steeds  traveled 
before  they  proved  themselves  to  be  either 
already  weary  in  flesh  and  spirit,  or  of  a 
wrong-headedness  and  perversity  never  par 
alleled  in  equine  annals.  They  balked  at 
hillocks  a  foot  high,  they  hesitated  at  pud 
dles,  shied  at  shadows,  and  came  to  a  full 
stop  with  legs  wide  apart  in  front  of  a 
brook.  Three  persons  and  one  small  trunk 
was  surely  no  overwhelming  load  for  a  span 
of  horses,  but  as  the  dusk  grew  into  evening 
matters  grew  more  ominous  still. 

It  was  a  cold  night,  the  water  by  the 
wayside  glazed  with  a  thin  film  of  ice,  and 
as  the  pale  moon  rose  and  hung  spectral  on 
the  horizon,  a  chill  wind  began  to  blow,  and 
the  dark  shadows  flung  by  the  clumps  of 
bushes  looked  like  so  many  crouching  In 
dians.  Suddenly  there  was  a  blood-curdling 
yell  and  the  horses  began  to  gallop  furiously. 

Mary  shrieked  also,  in  spite  of  herself, 
and  the  consul  hurriedly  said,  "  Do  not  be 
alarmed,  seilorita,  it  is  the  driver  trying  an 
Apache  war-whoop  to  stir  up  the  horses." 

"  Horrors !  I  should  think  it  might  stir 
up  the  dead,"  shivered  Mary.  "Will  he 
do  it  again  ?  " 


86  UNDER   THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

Oh,  yes,  he  not  only  did  it  again,  but  Mr. 
Alvarado  reinforced  him  several  times,  and 
these  fiendish  cries  put  the  crowning  touch 
to  a  distressing  evening.  The  beasts  for 
whom  they  were  intended,  however,  minded 
them  very  little  on  the  whole,  and  began  to 
balk  again,  finally  coming  to  a  decisive, 
stiff-legged  stop  in  the  middle  of  a  moonlit 
plain  that  looked  as  wide  as  the  ocean. 

It  was  now  ten  o'clock,  and  the  driver 
gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  there  was  no 
hope  of  reaching  Dos  Palmas,  their  projected 
stopping  -  place,  that  night,  and  that  the 
horses  might  as  well  be  taken  out  and  left 
to  rest  and  graze  for  a  while.  This  was 
done,  they  were  hobbled,  and  the  two  men 
sat  down  on  the  shafts  of  the  buckboard  to 
smoke  and  talk.  Not  long  afterward  the 
driver,  rising,  found  that  one  of  the  trouble 
some  steeds  had  disappeared  and  at  once  set 
off  in  pursuit.  As  he  did  not  return,  Mr. 
Alvarado  followed  him,  and  in  a  few  mo 
ments  poor  Mary  sat  deserted  in  the  stage, 
no  human  creature  in  sight,  nor  so  far  as 
she  knew  to  be  found  within  miles,  —  utterly 
alone  in  the  midst  of  that  vast  plain  of 
Mexico. 

"  If  Robinson  Crusoe  felt  any  more  deso- 


HO,  FOR  CERITAS  87 

late  on  Juan  Fernandez,  he  deserves  more 
pity  than  he  ever  received,"  thought  Mary. 
"  Oh,  if  Aunt  Ellen  could  only  see  me  !  If 
they  never  come  back,  shall  I  mount  the 
other  horse  and  ride  to  the  nearest  settle 
ment  ?  I  '11  drag  my  trunk  behind  me  with 
a  rope.  How  funny  I  shall  look !  Ha,  ha, 
ha,  ha !  Oh,  dear,  but  I  'm  cold  and  fright 
ened  !  "  and  laughter  struggling  with  tears 
brought  on  an  approach  to  hysterics. 

Suddenly  horses'  hoofs  were  heard,  and  she 
composed  herself  as  the  two  men  and  the 
missing  beast  appeared,  the  latter  wearing 
an  expression  of  fiendish  glee,  as  if  he  glo 
ried  in  the  trouble  he  had  made. 

"Senorita,"  called  the  consul,  as  she 
leaned  forward  eagerly  at  sight  of  his  broad 
shoulders,  "  were  you  alarmed  in  our  ab 
sence  ?  Ah,  you  are  quite  calm  and  fear 
less,  I  see.  That  is  well.  The  driver  tells 
me  that  he  will  go  on  an  hour  or  two  longer, 
now,  and  then  rest  until  dawn  at  a  wayside 
place  he  knows  of." 

The  horses  traveled  better  when  harnessed 
in  again,  and  in  another  hour  they  drew  up 
at  the  foot  of  a  hill  crowned  with  a  flat- 
roofed  brush  hut,  open  in  front  to  all  the 
winds  of  heaven.  A  little  fire  was  still 


88  UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

smouldering  outside,  and  by  its  light  the 
consul  poked  about  among  the  sleeping  in 
mates  and  discovered,  as  he  told  his  startled 
companion  in  an  undertone,  that  there  were 
already  three  sheep-herders,  the  half-breed 
to  whom  the  dwelling  belonged,  his  Indian 
wife  and  grown  son,  stretched  on  the  ground 
within  in  deepest  slumber.  She  was  para 
lyzed  with  fright  and  astonishment.  Was 
she  expected  to  go  in  there  with  all  those 
people  and  sleep  on  the  bare  ground  that 
cold  night?  Yes,  that  was  evidently  the 
intention.  The  consul  found  her  a  corner 
near  the  door  behind  a  screen  of  pine 
boughs,  bade  her  wrap  herself  in  all  her 
shawls,  insisted  on  mixing  her  a  draught 
from  his  flask,  laid  a  blanket  on  the  ground, 
said  he  would  stretch  himself  out  next  the 
screen  so  that  she  might  feel  safer,  and 
handed  her  to  her  couch  with  the  courtly 
manner  of  the  cavaliers,  his  ancestors. 

What  was  she  to  do  ?  She  could  not  sit 
in  the  stage  all  night,  she  could  not  stand 
outside,  she  could  not  run  back  to  Tontin  ; 
and  liberty  of  choice  being  thus  narrowed, 
she  curled  up  in  her  corner  without  a  pro 
test.  Oh,  but  the  earth  was  cold ;  oh,  but 
the  wind  whistled  through  the  brush  sides  of 


HO,  FOR  CERITAS  89 

the  hut !  Her  two  companions  were  asleep 
in  a  trice,  and  added  their  heavy  breathings 
to  the  midnight  chorus  sounding  around 
her.  How  could  anybody  sleep  on  that  hard 
ground  and  in  a  cold  that  seemed  to  stop  the 
very  heart  from  beating  ?  After  an  hour  or 
so  it  was  more  than  could  be  borne,  and  she 
stepped  softly  over  the  consul,  and  adding 
a  few  branches  to  the  dying  fire  wrapped 
herself  up  tightly  and  crouched  on  a  great 
stone  in  front  of  the  quickly  leaping  blaze. 
This  was  no  time  for  tears,  but  for  very 
blackness  of  misery,  and  for  a  loneliness  and 
homesickness  that  pierced  the  marrow  of  her 
bones. 

White-faced  and  staring  into  the  embers, 
so  Mr.  Alvarado  found  her  when  he  wak 
ened  in  the  gray  dawn,  and  with  many  mut 
tered  reproaches  at  his  own  pig-headedness 
and  stupidity,  as  he  termed  them,  he  rolled 
her  in  his  own  blankets,  piled  her  wraps  on 
top,  plucked  the  stage  robes  from  the  uncon 
scious  driver  and  added  them  to  the  heap, 
and  took  her  former  seat  on  the  stone.  So, 
thanks  to  the  Mexican  courtesy,  which  in 
Mary's  experience  was  never  far  off  when 
needed,  the  poor,  tired  child  snatched  an 
hour's  slumber,  during  which  time  the  sheep- 


90  UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

herders  took  their  departure,  the  owners  of 
the  hut  arose,  the  driver  awoke,  and  the 
horses  were  harnessed. 

Breakfast  was  found  in  the  lunch-baskets, 
and  as  Mary  sat  mending  her  dress  just  be 
fore  starting,  the  Indian  woman  crept  up, 
and  with  many  appealing  gestures  appeared 
to  beg  for  the  precious  needle. 

"  Dear  me,  you  poor  thing ! "  cried  the 
seamstress,  quickly  understanding,  "  yes,  of 
course,  a  whole  paper  of  them.  See,  Mr. 
Alvarado,  how  pleased  she  is.  Can  you 
make  her  understand  that  she  can  have 
some  thread  if  she  wants  it  ?  " 

The  woman  gave  her  a  beaming  smile 
and  a  quick  caress,  and  as  the  stage  rattled 
away  she  stood  by  the  fire  waving  her  hand 
to  her  benefactor. 

The  country  all  that  day  was  beautiful 
even  in  its  winter  dress :  there  were  groves 
of  cottonwoods,  clumps  of  dark  live-oaks, 
tinkling  brooks  and  swift  blue  rivers,  wav 
ing  yellow  grass,  picturesque  tumble-down 
villages,  groups  of  dusky  children,  bright 
air  and  sunshine,  and  a  growing  excitement 
as  afternoon  drew  on  and  "  Miss  Barbara  " 
might  be  expected  at  any  moment. 

Yet  it  was  not  until  dusk,  at  the  mill  in 


HO,  FOR  CERITAS  91 

Las  Flores,  ten  miles  from  Ceritas,  that 
Mary  fell  into  the  friendly  arms  waiting  to 
receive  her,  and  felt  as  if  her  troubles  had 
all  been  lifted  for  a  season.  She  was  warmly 
welcomed,  drawn  into  the  house,  and  pre 
sented  to  the  miller  and  his  wife,  as  well  as 
to  a  melancholy  young  man,  with  a  Charles 
the  Fifth  beard,  whose  name  of  Raimundo 
Altamirano  seemed  all  too  long  for  her  tired 
brain  to  remember. 

It  appeared  that  supper  was  to  be  taken 
here,  and  she  sat  down  to  the  meal,  ad 
dressed  in  English  on  the  one  side  by  Mrs. 
Vazquez,  on  the  other  by  Monsieur  Lafleur, 
in  his  native  tongue,  and  from  the  other  end 
of  the  table  in  Spanish,  by  his  wife.  Too 
weary  and  confused  by  this  polyglot  house 
hold  either  to  eat  or  understand,  she  was  not 
sorry  when  after  supper  two  white  horses 
were  brought  to  the  door,  and  it  appeared 
that  the  Knight  of  the  Rueful  Countenance, 
who  had  brought  Mrs.  Vazquez  to  the  mill, 
was  to  drive  them  both  back  to  Ceritas. 

On  the  homeward  way  this  pensive  cava 
lier  was  almost  ignored,  for  as  it  appeared 
that  he  spoke  no  English,  Mary  talked  her 
heart  out  to  her  beloved  "  Miss  Barbara." 

They  reached  their  destination,  drew  up 


92  UNDER   THE  CACTUS   FLAG 

before  a  long  adobe  house  with  iron-grated 
windows,  clattered  in  through  a  great  double 
door  in  the  centre,  alighted  in  the  court 
yard,  and  Mrs.  Vazquez  showed  the  traveler 
into  a  spacious,  brick-floored  room,  where 
three  children  were  sitting  by  an  open  fire. 

This  was  Ceritas,  at  last ;  this  house  was 
to  be  her  abiding  place,  these  black-eyed 
children  were  some  of  her  future  pupils ; 
the  bright  flames  seemed  wonderfully  cheer 
ing  to  her  tired  eyes,  and  to  crown  the 
homelike  impression,  a  beautiful  Gordon 
setter  drew  near  as  soon  as  she  had  taken 
a  seat  and  laid  his  head  in  her  lap. 

Her  journey  was  over,  her  native  land 
was  far  away,  and  she  was  under  the  shelter 
of  the  Cactus  Flag. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

FIRST    IMPRESSIONS. 

"GOOD  mor-nin',  Mees  Mehree!"  sounded 
in  her  ear  next  day,  and  a  spray  of  orange- 
blossoms  was  laid  on  her  pillow. 

"  Good  morning,"  sitting  up  in  her  nar 
row  cot  and  pushing  back  her  ruffled  locks. 
"  Oh,  it  is  Lucina,  is  n't  it?  Did  n't  I  see 
you  last  evening?" 

44  Yes,  Lucina  —  Lucina  Mariscal.  Not 
spik  much  Englees.  Mees  Mehree  teach," 
smilingly  said  a  brunette  girl  a  year  or  two 
younger  than  Mary.  "It  is  seven  o'clock," 
rapidly,  in  her  own  tongue;  "do  you  feel 
rested  enough  to  get  up  ?  because  if  you  're 
not,  Barbarita  says  I  may  bring  you  your 
breakfast  in  bed." 

"  Oh  yes,  of  course  I  '11  get  up.  Oh, 
what  lovely  orange-blossoms  !  Did  you 
bring  them  for  me  ? "  as  the  girlish  figure 
with  its  long  black  braids  turned  to  leave 
the  room. 

"  Si,  sefiorita.  I  brought  them  for  a  wel 
come.  There  are  many  in  the  garden." 


94  UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

"  Let  me  see.  Who  is  she  ?  "  thought 
Mary,  hurriedly  rising  and  bringing  her 
bare  feet  into  surprised  contact  with  the 
bricks.  —  "  Ugh,  how  cold  !  Aunt  Ellen's 
worsted  slippers  will  be  useful  here.  —  Oh, 
yes,  I  remember.  She  's  one  of  Mr.  Vaz 
quez's  relatives,  and  she 's  going  to  live 
here  this  winter  to  learn  English  and  go  to 
school.  She  's  nice,  I  know.  —  Why,  my 
basin  and  pitcher  are  brown  earthenware. 
How  funny!  I  wish  my  trunk  were  in  here. 
I  can't  bear  to  put  on  that  old  traveling 
rig  again.  —  Oh,  my  pillow  is  made  of  red 
damask.  I  did  n't  notice  it  before  ;  and 
what  a  pretty  pillow-case,  with  all  that  Mex 
ican  work !  "  and  so,  delaying  her  toilet 
somewhat  by  peeps  through  the  barred  win 
dow  and  tours  of  inspection  about  the  cur 
tained  inclosure  which  formed  her  chamber, 
she  at  last  finished  dressing  and  made  her 
way  to  the  room  in  which  she  had  been  re 
ceived  the  previous  night. 

There  was  a  merry  breakfast  over  which 
Mrs.  Vazquez  presided,  three  children  being 
present,  Lucina  and  her  two  younger  bro 
thers,  Vicente  and  Faustino.  All  these  were 
to  form  part  of  the  household  that  winter 
for  practice  in  English,  of  which  tongue  it 


FIRST   IMPRESSIONS  95 

seemed  that  the  boys  knew  nothing  as  yet. 
Lucina's  accomplishments  were  only  about 
a  month  old,  and  though  she  already  knew  a 
number  of  words,  yet  she  understood  very 
little  conversation,  —  so  it  seemed  clear  that 
Mary  would  have  all  needful  opportunities 
at  home,  as  well  as  abroad,  to  perfect  her 
self  in  Spanish. 

The  house,  as  they  looked  it  over  after 
breakfast,  was  indeed  a  curiosity  in  her 
eyes,  and  she  could  not  but  consider  it  ill- 
adapted  to  any  but  a  tropical  climate.  It 
was  adobe,  of  course,  flat-roofed,  one-storied, 
and  though  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  long, 
contained  but  four  rooms,  no  one  of  which 
communicated  with  the  others.  There  were 
no  doors  on  the  street  save  the  great  arched, 
stone-paved  entrance,  or  zaguan,  which  usu 
ally  stood  half-open  during  the  day,  though 
each  room  had  two  long  window  openings, 
without  glass,  barred  their  whole  length 
with  thick  iron  gratings,  and  provided  in 
side  with  heavy  wooden  shutters,  above  and 
below.  The  floors  were  laid  with  large 
square  bricks,  the  whitewashed  walls  were 
very  high,  the  great  beams  across  the  ceil 
ing  were  unpainted,  and  the  doors,  which 
were  fastened  with  chains  and  bars,  opened 


96  UNDER  THE  CACTUS   FLAG 

on  a  brick  sidewalk  running  along  the  back 
of  the  house. 

"  If  you  want  anything  in  your  room, 
after  dinner,  Mary,"  laughed  Mrs.  Vazquez, 
"  you  '11  have  to  light  a  lantern,  go  out 
doors,  and  walk  half  a  block  for  it.  You  'd 
better  follow  iny  example.  I  've  had  pock 
ets  as  big  as  Madame  Swiss  Family  Robin 
son's  put  in  all  my  dresses." 

The  kitchen  was  separate  from  the  house, 
and  when  they  entered  it,  a  fat  and  very 
dusky  cook  sat  cross-legged  on  the  floor  in 
front  of  the  open  fire,  surrounded  by  piles 
of  breakfast  dishes  which  she  was  washing, 
in  that  position.  A  two  months'  argument, 
it  seemed,  had  already  been  held  with  Doiia 
Juana,  regarding  the  advantages  of  a  table 
for  this  task,  but  she  had  been  deaf  to  rea 
soning,  and  still  squatted,  like  a  giant  toad, 
accompanied  by  her  youngest  hopeful,  a 
brown-eyed  barefoot,  who  looked  up  and 
smiled  at  the  party  like  one  of  Carlo  Dolce's 
cherubs.  Mary's  own  room  was  curtained 
off  at  one  end  of  a  nobly  proportioned  apart 
ment,  at  the  other  extremity  of  which  was 
Lucina's  cot,  the  space  between  being  occu 
pied  by  sacks  of  brown  beans  or  frijoles 
piled  as  high  as  the  ceiling.  Mary  had  al- 


FIRST   IMPRESSIONS  97 

ready  breakfasted  on  these  useful  vegeta 
bles,  cooked  Mexican  fashion,  and  their 
savor  had  been  so  delicious  to  her  palate 
that  she  could  not  regret  the  presence  of 
the  sacks  in  her  room,  feeling  that  they 
indicated  a  comfortable  provision  for  the 
winter. 

As  they  left  this  chamber,  rather  a  novelty 
in  the  line  of  a  maiden's  bower,  a  thin  wrin 
kled  crone,  wrapped  in  a  ragged  shawl,  stood 
in  the  entrance  door,  holding  out  an  empty 
gourd  appealingly,  while  she  prayed  for 
blessings  on  the  head  of  •  "  Dona  Barba- 
rita." 

"  It 's  a  beggar,  Mary,"  said  Mrs.  Vaz 
quez.  "  We  give  them  frijoles  here,  in 
stead  of  money.  Gather  some  oranges  for 
your  teacher,  Lucina,  dear,  while  I  fill  the 
poor  old  woman's  gourd." 

Back  of  the  house  ran  a  fence  of  slender 
cactus  stalks,  behind  which  was  the  fragrant 
orchard  where  Mary  was  taken  to  pick  her 
first  oranges.  The  trees  were  loaded  not 
only  with  ripe,  yellow  fruit,  but  with  gold 
and  white  blossoms,  and  green  and  half- 
ripe  spheres,  and  the  two  girls  took  seven- 
league  strides  into  friendship  as  they  ate  the 
fruit  together. 


98  UNDER   THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

They  made  a  pretty  contrast,  Mrs.  Vaz 
quez  thought,  as  they  came  through  the 
orchard  gate,  for  Lucina's  hair  and  brows 
and  lashes  were  of  the  dense  blackness  of 
charcoal,  and  the  pale  chocolate  of  her  soft 
cheek  lost  none  of  its  twilight  beauty  be 
side  Mary's  tints  of  cream  and  carnation. 

These  rosy  cheeks  of  hers,  which  she  had 
always  derided,  considering  them  blowsy 
and  milkmaid-like,  were  a  passport  to  favor 
in  Sonora,  she  soon  found,  and  from  their 
novelty  gained  general  admiration.  The 
little  children  by  and  by  brought  her  pink 
sweet-peas,  which  they  declared,  in  their 
pretty  foreign  fashion,  had  kept  her  color  in 
mind  when  they  blossomed;  and  the  older 
girls  used  to  write  her  adoring  notes  in 
which  they  called  her  their  Rose  of  Castile. 

This  morning  the  admired  roses  bloomed 
brighter  than  ever,  for  life  looked  fairer 
than  it  had  done  for  many  weeks.  The 
journey  was  over,  Mrs.  Vazquez  very  kind 
and  friendly,  two  home  letters  had  been 
awaiting  her,  the  orchard  was  enchanting, 
all  the  children  she  had  seen  most  prepos 
sessing,  and  it  was  with  a  grateful  heart  that 
she  walked  by  Mrs.  Vazquez's  side,  as  after 
luncheon  they  set  out  to  make  a  tour  of 
Ceritas. 


FIRST  IMPRESSIONS  99 

It  was  a  little  place,  as  she  had  been  told 
.in  Arizona,  but  it  was  picturesquely  set  in 
the  midst  of  rolling  hills  covered  with  cacti 
and  backed  by  lofty  spurs  of  the  Sierra 
Madre  range.  A  clear,  willow-fringed  river 
ran  by  the  town,  and  Lucina  was  rapturous 
over  the  number  and  beauty  of  the  wild- 
flowers  that  would  soon  be  in  bloom  near  its 
banks.  El  Cerro  de  la  Yentana  (the  win 
dow  mountain)  was  one  curiosity  pointed  out 
to  her :  a  barren  peak  near  by,  with  a  broad 
reddish  streak  like  a  dark  stain  across  its 
breast*  Near  the  top  was  a  rift  in  the  solid 
rock  like  a  window  in  a  fortress,  showing 
the  blue  sky  beyond  ;  and  through  this  open 
ing,  legend  said,  a  famous  Yaqui  chief, 
wounded  and  fleeing  from  his  foes,  had 
leaped  a  century  ago.  It  was  the  blood  that 
dripped  from  his  gaping  wounds  that  had 
dyed  the  mountain  red,  said  the  Yaquis, 
and  never  would  it  disappear,  they  prophe 
sied,  until  the  Mexicans  redressed  the  cruel 
wrongs  inflicted  upon  the  tribe. 

This  tale  was  related  by  Vicente  Maris- 
cal,  the  curly-haired  youngster  who  had  es 
corted  them,  and  was  accompanied  by  such 
sweeps  of  the  brown  hands,  such  dilating  of 
eyes,  such  play  of  color  and  such  energy  of 


100          UNDER  THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

emphasis,  that  even  a  deaf-mute  might  have 
made  shift  to  understand  him,  thought  Mary. 

In  the  public  square  or  plaza,  across  which 
could  be  seen  the  old  half-Moorish  church 
of  Saint  Francis  Xavier,  they  met  an  inter 
esting  family  of  a  dozen  baby  pigs,  who 
with  their  mother  occupied  the  very  spot 
in  the  centre  where  a  statue  might  fitly 
have  been  placed.  Lucina  blushed  and 
pouted  at  this  barbarous  sight,  as  she  called 
it,  and  wondered  audibly  how  it  would  be 
regarded  in  "  Mees  Mehree's  country ;  "  but 
that  young  lady,  not  in  the  least  shocked, 
stopped  so  long  to  admire  the  pink  innocence 
of  the  piglings  that  she  was  dragged  away 
forcibly  to  inspect  the  church. 

"There's  an  interesting  tradition,"  said 
Mrs.  Vazquez,  "about  the  image  of  Saint 
Francis  Xavier  we  shall  find  in  here. 

"  It  seems  that  it  was  not  intended  for 
this  place  at  all,  but  was  sent  from  some  city 
in  the  interior,  in  the  latter  part  of  last  cen 
tury,  to  fill  a  shrine  further  south.  Well, 
on  the  way  the  mule  that  carried  the  pre 
cious  figure  was  lost,  and  after  long  search 
was  found  in  a  thicket  here  on  this  very 
spot.  The  drivers,  Lucina's  mother  told 
me,  are  said  to  have  employed  every  means, 


FIRST  IMPRESSIONS  101 

sacred  and  profane,  to  get  the  animal  to 
move  on,  but  he  would  not  stir,  and  so  they 
concluded  there  was  some  mysterious  mean 
ing  in  his  obstinacy  and  unloaded  the  im- 
age." 

"  And  when  they  had  done  that,  the  case 
could  not  be  moved  either !  "  cried  Lucina, 
pressing  nearer,  "though  they  sent  to  the 
nearest  village  for  the  priest  to  see  what  he 
could  do." 

"Yes,  it  is  said  that  all  effort  was  ex 
hausted,"  continued  Mrs.  Vazquez,  "  and 
the  priest  told  them  at  last  that  it  was  clear 
Saint  Francis  Xavier  wanted  a  church  built 
in  his  honor  on  this  very  site,  and  the  faith 
ful  duly  complied  with  his  wishes.  He  is 
considered,  it  seems,  the  most  wonderful 
saint  in  the  calender  for  curing  diseases, 
and  people  come  from  all  over  the  state,  and 
even  from  Lower  California,  Arizona,  and 
New  Mexico,  to  lay  their  offerings  at  his 
shrine." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  old 
whitewashed  building  with  its  round  towers, 
and  tiptoeing  over  the  brick  floor,  passing 
the  paintings  and  richly  dressed  saints, 
stood  before  the  glass  coffin  containing  the 
famous  image. 


102          UNDER  THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

"  See,  Mary,"  whispered  her  guide,  "  the 
money  is  slipped  through  this  opening  into 
this  great  iron-bound  box  that  stands  at  the 
feet  of  the  figure,  and  Padre  Romero  told 
me  they  took  out  fifteen  thousand  dollars  in 
gold  and  silver  last  year.  If  only,"  sighing, 
"  we  could  have  a  little  of  that  sum  for  the 
schools  and  the  town,  though  it 's  well  Lucina 
does  n't  understand  English,  or  she  'd  be 
shocked  at  such  a  heretical  remark." 

As  they  left  the  dim,  incense-loaded  atmo 
sphere  and  came  out  into  the  sunlight  of 
the  plaza,  they  met  a  white-haired  old  gen 
tleman  leaning  on  his  cane,  who  stopped  to 
be  presented  to  the  American  teacher. 

"Ha  —  lira.  Very  young!"  he  observed 
to  Mrs.  Vazquez,  after  the  usual  courteous 
formalities  had  been  said. 

Mary  flushed  and  felt  ashamed,  but  re 
covered  somewhat  when  her  friend  answered 
brightly,  "Yes,  very  young,  Don  Alberto, 
but  very  well  instructed  and  very  capable." 

"  Hm  —  ah  yes,  no  doubt,  no  doubt,  but 
very  young,  very  young.  Good  morning, 
ladies,"  and  he  hobbled  away,  leaving  the 
conviction  in  Mary's  breast  that  he  was 
departing  to  spread  the  sad  news  of  her 
extreme  youth  throughout  the  entire  com 
munity. 


FIRST  IMPRESSIONS  103 

"Never  mind,  Mariquita,"  said  Mrs. 
Vazquez,  using  for  the  first  time  the  pretty 
Spanish  diminutive  that  soon  grew  so  dear, 
"never  mind,  youth  is  no  fault,  and  if  it 
were,  it 's  one  that 's  soon  mended.  Come, 
children,"  she  added  in  their  own  tongue, 
"  let  us  take  Miss  Mary  to  the  Alameda. 
We  don't  find  her  too  young,  do  we, 
Lucina  ?  " 

"  No  indeed,  of  course  not,  she  is  exactly 
right,  and  Don  Alberto  is  very  without  man 
ners,"  cried  this  ardent  little  partisan,  whose 
changing  color  had  shown  her  disapproval 
of  the  old  man's  bearing. 

The  narrow  streets  through  which  they 
passed  to  the  Alameda,  a  pretty  square 
lined  with  poplar  trees,  were  like  the  streets 
of  Tontin,  the  houses  built  flush  with  the 
sidewalk,  their  brown  bricks,  flat  roofs,  iron- 
barred  windows,  and  heavy  wooden  shutters 
giving  an  appearance  of  desolate,  prison-like 
uniformity  to  the  town.  All  the  life  and 
color  of  the  better  establishments  lay  in  the 
courtyards  and  gardens  at  the  back,  and  the 
dwellings  of  the  poor  could  only  be  distin 
guished  by  the  lack  of  gratings  in  the  win 
dows  and  the  absence  of  brick  floors  and 
paved  entrances,  the  one  rude  door  opening 


104         UNDER   THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

directly  into  the  living-room.  Yet  the  earth 
floors  were  cleanly  swept,  well  sprinkled 
and  hard,  a  saint's  picture  always  hung  on 
the  walls,  and  though  the  furniture  was  only 
a  straw  mat,  a  table,  and  a  chair  or  two,  the 
beds  were  beautifully  white  and  clean,  and 
much  labor  had  been  expended  on  the  pillow 
cases  with  their  elaborate  bands  of  drawn 
work,  and  the  gay  damask  pillows  that 
showed  beneath. 

The  women  and  girls  who  glided  by  in 
their  soft  slippers  invariably  had  either 
black  shawls  or  rebosos  wrapped  about  their 
heads,  and  so  folded  that  only  their  dark 
eyes,  noses,  and  a  little  strip  of  forehead 
was  visible. 

The  reboso  Mary  found  to  be  a  long, 
soft,  fine  scarf  of  cotton  or  silk,  with  fringed 
ends,  generally  either  brown,  or  dark  blue 
and  white  in  color. 

"  It  seems  to  be  a  universal  toilet  neces 
sity,"  she  wrote  to  her  aunt,  "  apparently 
worn  night  and  day  by  some  of  the  women. 
It  is  bonnet  and  shawl  in  one,  and  is  often 
so  held  as  to  be  a  kind  of  mask  also,  giving 
a  mysterious  Oriental  look  to  the  dark  faces. 
I  wonder  if  it 's  a  relic  of  Moorish  customs 
and  veiled  beauties." 


FIRST  IMPRESSIONS  105 

Against  the  sunny  walls  of  some  of  these 
closed,  sphinx-like  dwellings  leaned  silent 
men  in  cotton  trousers,  leather  sandals, 
wide  hats,  and  sarapes  of  vivid  red  or  pur 
ple  or  dark-blue,  with  fanciful  stripes  and 
designs. 

Their  felt  sombreros  pulled  down  over 
their  dusky  brows,  their  snow-white  trou 
sers,  the  brilliant  sarapes  wrapped  about  the 
shoulders  with  a  fold  held  over  the  mouth, 
the  soft  brown  background  of  the  adobes 
and  the  intense  blue  of  the  sky  above,  made 
a  color  composition  that  would  have  been  at 
once  the  delight  and  the  despair  of  an  artist, 
and  Mary  longed  for  Celia's  happy  faculty 
of  sketching,  that  she  might  send  home  some 
of  these  picturesque  bits. 

On  one  corner,  four  squatting  men,  full- 
grown,  bearded  ones,  were  intent  on  a  game 
with  jack-knives  which  appeared  to  be  no 
thing  but  the  common  school-boy  sport  of 
mumble-the-peg,  but  was  attended  with  so 
much  gesture  and  declamation  that  it  might 
have  been  faro  or  rouge  et  noir. 

Business  must  be  dull  and  the  country  far 
from  prosperous,  Mary  thought,  when  grown 
men  have  time  to  play  mumble-the-peg  in 
the  middle  of  the  afternoon. 


106         UNDER   THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

From  the  Alameda  they  strolled  slowly 
homeward,  seeing  for  one  novelty  on  the 
way  a*  number  of  squealing  pigs  in  as  many 
back  yards,  each  one  tied  up  like  a  watch 
dog  with  a  collar  and  chain  about  his  neck. 
There  was  a  baby  donkey,  too,  looking  over 
a  wall,  the  veriest  of  babies,  so  young  that 
his  long  soft  ears  fell  like  ringlets  on  either 
side  of  his  dear  furry  face.  Mary  really 
could  n't  help  climbing  up  and  hugging  him, 
and  as  at  that  unfortunate  moment  Don 
Alberto  hobbled  past,  it  is  to  be  presumed 
that  the  stigma  of  hoidenhood  was  added  to 
that  of  youth  in  his  mind. 

On  a  corner  near  by  was  a  little  shop, 
where  ollas,  or  earthen  jars  of  various  shapes 
and  sizes,  bowls,  exquisitely  braided  baskets, 
wicker  bird-cages,  and  other  specimens  of 
Indian  handiwork  were  sold,  and  here  they 
all  lingered  for  a  time,  Mary  exclaiming 
over  the  novelties  on  every  side,  and  finally 
bearing  away  a  dainty  little  basket,  deco 
rated  with  a  curious  lattice-work  of  black, 
which  she  destined  for  aunt  Ellen's  knit 
ting. 

The  Altamirano  house,  next  their  own, 
looked  impenetrably  silent  as  they  passed, 
and  Mrs.  Vazquez  explained  that  the  Knight 


FIRST  IMPRESSIONS  107 

of  the  Rueful  Countenance  had  only  been  at 
home  for  a  day,  had  returned  to  Ures  that 
morning,  and  had  given  his  housekeeper  a 
brief  vacation. 

There  were  more  frijoles,  delicious  fri- 
joles,  for  supper,  and  tortillas  too,  a  thin 
unleavened  pancake,  a  foot  in  diameter, 
patted  thin  in  the  hands  and  cooked  by  an 
open  fire. 

In  the  evening  they  all  sat  before  the 
blaze,  and  Lucina  and  her  brothers  sang 
some  Spanish  songs,  Vicente  falling  nat 
urally  into  a  delicious  second,  and  the  two 
little  lads  warbling  with  great  pathos  many 
sentiments  about  love  and  sorrow  and  re 
morse  and  despair  and  passion,  which  must 
have  been  all  Greek  to  them. 

As  Mary  laid  her  head  on  her  red  pillow 
that  night,  the  exile's  song,  "  La  Golon- 
drina,"  with  its  refrain  of  "  Nevermore,  ah ! 
nevermore  shall  I  return,"  sounded  in  her 
ears  with  its  mournful  cadence,  and  it  is 
small  wonder  if  there  were  great  tears  on 
the  long  lashes  when  at  last  she  sank  to 
sleep. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

A   YOUTHFUL   TEACHER. 

"  DING,  dong  !  Ding,  dong  !  "  clanged 
the  church  bell  the  Monday  after  Mary 
reached  Ceritas.  "  Ding,  dong !  Come 
along !  Come  to  school,  to  school !  " 

The  little  teacher  stood  in  her  own  room 
looking  at  the  day's  text  on  the  wall-roll 
Celia  had  illuminated  for  her.  "  The  Lord 
is  my  light  and  my  salvation ;  whom  shall  I 
fear  ?  The  Lord  is  the  strength  of  my  life  ; 
of  whom  shall  I  be  afraid  ?  "  sounded  the 
triumphant  words. 

They  were  a  call  to  arms,  a  ringing  re 
minder  of  duty,  as  well  as  a  promise  of  all 
needful  strength  to  perform  it,  and  they 
were  sorely  needed  by  the  trembling  spirit 
that  heard  them.  The  ordeal  that  lay  be 
fore  her  was,  it  must  be  confessed,  one  that 
might  well  have  daunted  an  older  person. 
She  had  never  taught  save  a  class  in  Sun 
day-school,  though  she  had  given  an  occa 
sional  morning's  assistance  in  the  seminary 


A  YOUTHFUL  TEACHER  109 

kindergarten.  That  was  a  kind  of  glorified 
play  for  all  the  older  girls,  however,  and  to 
be  asked  to  help  Miss  Hunter  a  privilege 
for  which  they  daily  sighed.  She  little  sus 
pected  that  this  slight  experimental  know 
ledge  of  babies  and  their  ways  was  now  to  be 
of  the  greatest  service  to  her,  nor  did  she  real 
ize,  what  was  also  true,  that  the  blood  of  the 
pedagogue  already  ran  in  her  veins,  for  she 
came  of  a  race  of  teachers,  whether  judges, 
lawgivers,  doctors,  professors,  or  ministers. 

She  trembled  as  she  thought  of  her  in 
experience,  she  shivered  as  she  remembered 
that  all  her  teaching  was  to  be  done  in 
Spanish,  and  she  might  have  hidden  in  the 
orchard  and  refused  to  go  to  her  post  at  all, 
had  she  not  been  strengthened  by  the  know 
ledge  that  Mrs.  Vazquez  was  to  spend  part 
of  the  first  week  at  the  school. 

She  was  still  contemplating  the  wall-roll, 
with  occasional  refreshing  peeps  at  aunt 
Ellen's  picture,  when  a  rustle  behind  her 
made  her  turn,  and  she  saw  four  small  tat 
tered  children  clinging  to  her  window-bars 
like  four  little  monkeys,  all  gazing  with 
round  eyes  at  the  Americana's  bright  hair 
and  rosy  cheeks  and  at  the  row  of  books  on 
the  table,  the  pictures  on  the  walls,  the  gay 


110         UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

cretonne  trunk-cover,  and  the  home-made 
rugs  on  the  floor. 

Five  days'  experience  had  accustomed 
Mary  somewhat  to  the  crowd  of  heads  at 
her  window,  though  at  first  they  made  her 
feel  like  some  strange  wild  beast  in  a  cage, 
and  caused  her  to  dread  that  she  would  be 
prodded  with  a  stick  presently  and  made  to 
roar.  The  wooden  shutters  must  be  left 
open,  or  there  would  be  no  light,  and  as, 
when  the  lower  ones  were  closed,  the  chil 
dren  only  climbed  up  higher  and  peeped 
over  them,  she  had  resigned  herself  to  the 
inevitable,  and  shut  herself  into  the  dark  for 
her  hasty  toilets. 

School  time  had  come  now,  and  she  caught 
up  her  hat  and  jacket  at  Mrs.  Vazquez's 
call,  and  the  imposing  procession  issued 
from  the  zaguan,  Lucina  by  Mary's  side, 
and  Faustino  and  Vicente,  gayly  chattering, 
in  front.  Everybody  was  wreathed  in  smiles 
save  the  heroine  of  the  day,  who  looked 
(and  felt)  as  if  she  were  the  royal  Mary 
herself,  going  to  execution. 

"Now,  cheer  up,  Mariquita,"  said  Mrs. 
Vazquez,  "  I  shall  be  with  you  all  day,  and 
you  're  going  to  do  well,  I  know.  Your 
Spanish  has  improved  wonderfully  this  past 


A  YOUTHFUL  TEACHER  111 

week,  and  I  know  Emilio  will  be  delighted 
when  he  comes  home.  You  're  a  great  deal 
more  self-helpful  than  I  had  supposed,  and 
the  way  you  've  got  on  with  these  boys  shows 
that  you  '11  work  miracles  with  the  younger 
children.  Here  we  are,  dear.  Welcome  to 
your  new  domain  !  " 

The  room  had  of  course  been  inspected 
before ;  a  long,  brick-floored,  windowless 
apartment,  which  had  been  rented  for  the 
new  enterprise  from  a  cavalier  of  decayed 
fortunes,  bearing  the  lofty  name  of  Don  Ti- 
burcio  Ramirez  de  Aragon.  Its  two  doors 
opened  on  the '  plaza,  and  directly  across  the 
way  were  the  ruins  of  an  old  church  built  two 
hundred  years  ago,  a  daily  reminder  to  the 
teacher  of  that  extreme  juvenility  so  ob 
jected  to  by  Don  Alberto. 

Twenty  children,  ranging  in  age  from  six 
to  sixteen  years,  were  clustered  about  the 
door  as  they  entered,  the  girls  in  calico  and 
some  few  in  plain  woolen  dresses,  their  heads 
swathed  in  rebosos,  and  the  boys  in  home 
made  suits  of  some  dark  mixed  stuff.  All 
were  neatly  dressed,  however,  for  these  were 
children  of  the  best  people,  who  appreciated 
the  advantages  of  education  and  hoped  for 
great  things  from  the  foreign  teacher. 


112         UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

Each  scholar  had  brought  his  own  table 
and  chair,  and  there  was  a  pleasing  variety 
of  color  and  pattern,  —  blue  chairs,  brown 
chairs,  white  chairs,  green,  red,  and  gray  ta 
bles  of  every  geometric  shape. 

"  Black  spirits  and  white,  red  spirits  and  gray ; 
Mingle,  mingle,  mingle,  you  that  mingle  may," 

murmured  Mary,  as  she  strove  to  arrange 
them  in  rows  and  reduce  them  to  school 
room  precision. 

When  the  children,  reinforced  by  five  late 
comers,  were  all  seated,  Mrs.  Vazquez  intro 
duced  the  teacher  and  made  a  brief  speech 
which  was  evidently  appreciated  by  the  older 
members  of  the  company,  the  little  ones 
sitting  grave  as  judges  meanwhile,  with  sur 
prised,  unwinking  eyes. 

Then  the  two  held  informal  examinations 
at  each  table,  discovering  that  all  the  larger 
pupils  could  read  their  own  tongue  flu 
ently,  and  half  of  them  write  fairly  well,  but 
that  they  knew  little  of  arithmetic  and  al 
most  nothing  of  geography.  All  but  three 
of  the  younger  ones  could  read  a  trifle  too, 
hesitatingly  and  with  many  stumbles,  but 
nobody  in  school  save  Lucina  knew  a  word 
of  English.  The  books  which  had  been 
provided  were  English  First  Readers  for  all. 


A  YOUTHFUL  TEACHER  113 

with  parallel  columns  in  their  own  tongue, 
a  History  of  the  World,  in  Spanish  for  the 
older  pupils,  and  writing  books.  This  was 
all,  and  Mary  could  not  help  a  hysterical 
laugh  when  she  heard  that  she  was  expected 
to  teach  arithmetic,  grammar,  and  geogra 
phy  through  the  medium  of  dictated  lessons 
in  Spanish.  There  were  slates  and  pencils, 
a  blackboard  and  chalk,  but  here  the  school 
apparatus  ended. 

The  rest  of  the  morning  was  spent  in  en 
rolling  the  names  of  the  pupils,  which  sim 
ple  exercise  gave  real  delight  to  the  teacher's 
musical  ear  as  the  high-sounding  syllables 
traveled  down  the  paper. 

Pla"cido  L6pez,  Eulogio  Garcia, 

Pascual  Salazar,  Panchita  Arellaga, 

Ramon  Chavez,  Josefita  Sepulveda, 

Lauro  Martinez,  Salome'  Garcia, 

Andres  Da"vila,  Delfina  Quiroga, 

Baudelio  Padre's,  Carmen  Cavazos, 

Santiago  Granillo,  Gertrudis  Aldama, 

Reinaldo  Rodriguez,  Trinidad  de  la  Garza, 

Eusebio  Ochoa,  Lucina  Mariscal, 

Vicente  Mariscal,  Dolores  de  la  Montana, 

Faustino  Mariscal,  Manuela  Armijo, 

Pedro  Resales,  Teresa  Caraveo. 
Telesfero  Cortez, 


114         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

Luncheon,  which  was  welcomed  after  this 
exciting  morning,  was  of  milk  and  pinole,  a 
flour  made  of  parched  corn  ;  but  there  were 
stewed  quinces  also,  and  as  each  of  the 
young  people  was  given  a  great  piece  of 
panocha,  the  feast  was  considered  delicious. 
There  were  piles  of  panocha  in  the  store 
room,  a  dark-brown  sugar  made  at  the 
cane-presses  into  thick  round  cakes  like  ma 
ple-wax,  and  Lucina  and  "  Mees  Mehree " 
had  already  established  a  five  o'clock  tea  sys 
tem,  the  tea  being  absent  and  replaced  by 
oranges  and  panocha. 

The  children  behaved  with  the  propriety 
of  judges  on  the  bench  that  first  day,  and 
their  teacher,  as  she  wrote  her  home  letters 
in  the  evening,  expatiated  upon  their  angelic 
demeanor  and  prophesied  that  it  would  be 
no  trouble  at  all  to  manage  them.  In  this, 
however,  she  was  counting  her  chickens  at 
least  two  wreeks  and  six  days  before  they 
were  hatched,  for  though  awed  at  first  by  the 
American  teacher  and  by  the  wonderful  in 
novation  of  boys  and  girls  at  school  together, 
they  were  quite  as  naughty  afterwards  as 
ordinary  children ;  and  Faustino  Mariscal 
proved  to  be  a  very  imp  of  mischief. 

If  they  were  just  as  naughty,  they  were 


A  YOUTHFUL  TEACHER  115 

just  as  charming  too,  and  had  the  pretti 
est  manners,  the  most  endearing  ways,  the 
sweetest  epithets  at  their  tongues'  ends,  and 
the  most  astonishing  vivacity  of  any  chil 
dren  ever  seen.  Their  tempers  were  hot,  it 
is  true,  and  they  took  nothing  calmly,  but 
though  rather  sensitive  and  "touchy"  they 
cooled  off  quickly,  save  in  the  case  of  two  of 
the  boys,  Lauro  Martinez  and  Pedro  Kosales, 
who  sulked  and  glowered  much  of  the  time. 
Lucina  was  a  tower  of  strength,  and  should 
have  been  made  a  salaried  assistant,  her  ser 
vices  were  so  valuable,  and  there  was  an 
other  girl  of  thirteen,  Carmencita  Cavazos, 
who  had  prostrated  herself  at  Mary's  shrine 
the  first  moment  she  saw  her,  and  ever  after 
spent  herself  in  worship  there. 

"  Mees  Mehree,"  as  the  children  called 
her,  walked  home  that  first  night  with  a 
package  of  slates  under  her  arm,  and  with 
a  ruler,  a  pointed  file,  and  Vicente's  able 
assistance  marked  off  one  side  of  them  in 
quarter  -  inch  squares  for  drawing  and  de 
signing.  They  were  all  finished  by  the  end 
of  the  week,  squares  painted  on  the  tables 
of  the  younger  children  for  stick  and  bean- 
laying,  materials  provided  for  bead-stringing, 
chain-making,  and  peas  work,  and  a  motion- 


11G         UNDER   THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

play,  "  The  Farmer,"  well  under  way.  The 
children  learned  this  air  and  that  of  a  Span 
ish  hymn  with  phenomenal  quickness,  and 
sang  them  beautifully  in  two  mornings,  part 
of  them  without  any  suggestion  taking  the 
alto  with  perfect  correctness.  The  English 
words  seemed  difficult  for  them,  however, 
and  the  majority  were  very  shy  and  self- 
conscious  about  attempting  to  pronounce 
them,  Pedro  Resales  at  first  flatly  declining 
even  to  make  the  effort. 

Dona  Barbarita,  as  everybody  called  her, 
went  to  school  regularly  every  morning  and 
three  afternoons  of  the  first  week,  but  the 
second  Monday  Mary  bravely  started  off 
alone.  It  was  Vicente's  week  to  ring  the 
bell ;  Faustino  had  accompanied  him,  loudly 
protesting  all  the  way  that  he  was  big 
enough  himself  to  do  it  once  in  a  while,  and 
Lucina  was  writing  a  letter  to  her  mother. 

The  weather  had  grown  much  colder  the 
past  week,  the  ground  was  frozen  hard,  and 
Mary  shivered  a  little  in  her  old  jacket  as 
she  tripped  along,  and  wished  her  hat  had 
been  a  hood.  The  two  Americans  were  the 
only  women  in  town  who  wore  hats,  and  for 
that  reason,  among  others,  Mary  still  drew 
considerable  attention  in  her  walks  abroad, 


A  YOUTHFUL  TEACHER  117 

whole  families  sometimes  flocking  to  the 
doors  to  gaze  at  her. 

Carmencita  was  waiting  on  the  corner  for 
the  beloved,  her  blue  and  white  reboso 
wrapped  tightly  about  her  shoulders  and  an 
offering  of  pepitoria  in  her  hand,  —  molasses 
candy  this,  made  in  sheets  and  dotted  thickly 
with  pumpkin  seeds.  The  beloved  was  not 
at  all  too  old  to  relish  candy,  and  accepted 
the  tribute  graciously,  though  indeed  she 
would  have  done  this  whatever  it  might 
have  been,  for  she  was  already  too  sincere 
a  child-lover  to  disdain  any  gift  of  affec 
tion,  however  unlovely  it  might  appear  to 
grown-up  eyes. 

The  lofty,  brick-floored  school-room,  boast 
ing  neither  stove  nor  fireplace,  was  like  an 
ice-house  all  that  morning,  and  Mary's  hands 
were  too  cold  to  hold  a  pen  and  her  feet 
almost  without  sensation.  Some  of  the  chil 
dren  looked  blue  and  pinched,  and  the  few 
in  calico  gowns  shook  like  leaves,  but  no 
complaint  was  made,  for  it  was  only  what 
most  of  them  would  have  endured  had  they 
been  at  home,  little  preparation  being  made 
for  the  brief  winter  in  Sonora. 

Mary,  inwardly  scoffing  at  Mr.  Vazquez, 
who  had  written  her  that  Ceritas  enjoyed  a 


118         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

semi-tropical  climate,  sang  and  inarched  and 
clapped  and  danced  about  with  the  children 
between  lesson  periods,  and  at  recess  took 
the  whole  flock  home  to  the  Vazquez  orchard, 
where  they  ran  races  down  the  orange-tree 
walks.  None  of  these  precautions,  however, 
availed  the  luckless  teacher,  who  before  after 
noon  felt  herself  in  the  clutches  of  one  of 
the  worst  of  colds.  It  was  a  blue  Monday, 
take  it  altogether,  for  her  greatest  trials, 
Lauro  Martinez  and  Pedro  Rosales,  brought 
long  pieces  of  sugar-cane  to  school  that  after 
noon,  and  the  one  running  against  the  other 
at  recess  and  causing  him  to  drop  his  sweet 
meat  in  a  puddle,  high  words  and  blows 
ensued,  and  they  rolled  on  the  floor  like 
fighting  bears.  There  is  nothing  remarkable 
or  to  be  dreaded  in  a  scuffle  between  two 
rough  lads,  perhaps,  but  Mary  was  little 
used  to  boys  ;  they  were  deaf  to  her  com 
mands,  and  she  feared  for  the  effect  upon 
the  younger  children,  who  stood  by  open- 
mouthed.  At  the  end  of  her  own  resources 
she  dashed  out  and  brought  in  Don  Tiburcio 
Ramirez  de  Aragon,  who,  with  thunderous 
waterfalls  of  Castilian  reproach,  separated 
the  combatants  with  well-aimed  whacks  upon 
exposed  portions  of  their  plump  bodies. 


A  YOUTHFUL  TEACHER  119 

He  retired,  Miss  Annesley  called  the 
school  to  order,  and  then,  no  more  to  the 
children's  amazement  than  to  her  own,  burst 
incontinently  into  a  flood  of  tears.  A  death 
like  silence  reigned  for  a  few  moments,  and 
then  Lucina  in  a  fierce  whisper  addressed 
the  culprits  as  "  Barbarians !  "  which  Car- 
mencita  followed  up  by  "  Shameless  ones  !  " 
accompanied  by  angry  glances;  and  Placido 
Lopez,  the  largest  boy  in  school,  capped  all 
by  growling  in  an  undertone  that  he  'd  teach 
them  better  manners  after  school. 

Fortunately  home  letters  arrived  that  even 
ing,  though  as  they  had  been  omitted  from 
the  family  package,  which  through  the  cour 
tesy  of  Don  Raimundo  was  always  franked 
through,  they  cost  their  recipient  twenty- 
five  good  cents  apiece  in  Mexican  postage. 

"Here  is  a  good  piece  of  news,  Mrs. 
Vazquez,"  cried  Mary.  "Aunt  Ellen  has 
sold  the  little  vineyard  on  the  foothills  to 
Mr.  Hunter,  the  new  neighbor.  He 's  going 
to  try  grape-raising,  it  seems.  The  place 
was  heavily  mortgaged,  but  they  sold  it  for 
one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  more  than  the 
indebtedness,  and  that  will  pay  the  most 
pressing  bills." 

"  I  'm  very  glad,"   said   her  hearer,  cor- 


120         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

dially.  "  And  is  your  aunt  as  well  as 
usual?" 

"  Yes,  quite  as  well,  and  I  have  a  lovely 
letter  from  Celia  and  a  pretty  new  handker 
chief.  See !  "  holding  it  up. 

"A  handkerchief  is  all  very  well,  but  it 
is  a  poor  trifle  compared  with  a  husband," 
laughed  Dona  Barbarita,  "  and  Mr.  Vazquez 
will  be  here  next  week.  •  Your  godfather  is 
coming,  Lucina,"  turning  to  the  girl. 

Mary  lost  what  followed,  for  she  had  dis 
covered  letters  from  both  Judge  and  Mrs. 
Mason,  as  well  as  a  note  from  Jack  Martin 
and  a  bundle  of  papers  and  magazines  ad 
dressed  in  his  writing.  The  judge  re 
proached  her  for  not  having  listened  to  his 
advice  and  for  her  hasty  departure,  but  was 
delighted  at  her  safe  arrival  and  enjoined 
her  to  call  upon  him  always  for  any  service 
he  could  render. 

Mrs.  Mason  wrote  that  she  missed  her  un 
speakably,  that  many  people  had  called  and 
asked  for  Miss  Annesley,  who  had  made  her 
self  such  a  general  favorite,  and  said  that 
she  and  the  judge  should  insist  upon  an 
other  visit  from  her  in  the  spring  or  early 
summer,  before  they  went  East  to  Rufus's 
Commencement. 


A  YOUTHFUL  TEACHER  121 

Jack's  note,  dated  from  the  "Last 
Chance  "  mines,  ran  as  follows,  rushing  into 
the  subject-matter  without  any  preface :  — 

You  thought  it  was  a  brilliant  thing,  did  you 
not,  Miss  Mary  Annesley,  to  steal  away  from 
Tontin  the  moment  your  male  advisers  and  guar 
dians  had  turned  their  backs. 

["  Adviser  and  guardian  indeed !  that 
boy !  "  thought  Mary.] 

I  understand  the  sortie  was  a  brilliant  one 
and  that  you  have  already  captured  the  enemy's 
camp,  so  as  the  absent  are  always  wrong  any 
way,  they  say,  I  won't  put  myself  more  effect 
ually  in  that  position  by  complaining  that  it 
was  n't  polite  of  you  to  set  out  without  a  word  to 
me. 

["  Never  thought  of  it,"  parenthesized  the 
reader.] 

Since  Tontin  is  not  as  attractive  as  it  was  a 
fortnight  ago,  I  sha'n't  leave  the  mines  at  present, 
for  I  'm  gaining  here  decidedly,  I  think,  though 
the  life  is  awfully  rough. 

If  I  keep  on  improving  I  shall  go  to  town  for 
a  few  days  by  and  by,  and  arrange  then  for  a 
horseback  trip  through  the  northern  part  of 
Mexico  early  in  the  spring.  I  know  it  would  do 
me  a  lot  of  good,  and  it  might  be  that  Ceritas 


122         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

could  be  included  in  my  itinerary.  I  am  sending 
you  some  papers  and  magazines  to-day,  and  shall 
continue  to  do  so,  that  you  may  by  ceaseless 
tributes  be  sufficiently  propitiated  to  welcome 
me  on  my  possible  arrival. 

With  pleasantest  memories  of  that  wonderful 
stage-ride  of  ours, 

Faithfully  yours, 

JOHN  MAXWELL  MARTIN. 

"Nice  boy,"  thought  Mary,  patting  the 
letter.  "  I  do  hope  he  's  getting  well,  but  I 
don't  know,  —  I  don't  know,"  —  pensively, 
for  her  eyes  were  too  sadly  accustomed  to 
the  sight  of  consumptives  wintering  in  South 
ern  California  to  find  much  reason  for  hope 
in  Jack's  appearance. 

It  was  not  Jack's  letter,  however,  that 
filled  her  thoughts  that  evening,  nor  occu 
pied  her  the  next  morning  as  she  walked 
to  school,  for  she  was  trying  to  familiarize 
herself  with  the  multiplication  table  in 
Spanish,  and  to  devise  intricate  problems  to 
write  on  the  blackboard  dealing  with  cakes 
of  panocha,  with  strings  of  Chili  peppers, 
and  loads  of  adobe  bricks. 

Though  the  cold  continued  severe  as  the 
days  went  by,  it  was  never  again  so  bad  as 
on  that  famous  "  blue  Monday,"  and  the 


A  YOUTHFUL  TEACHER  123 

children,  as  they  settled  down  to  regular 
work,  were  most  of  them  amenable  to  disci 
pline  and  delightfully  interested  in  their 
studies.  They  all  called  her  "  Mees  Mari- 
quita  "  now,  in  the  endearing  Spanish  way, 
and  were  surely,  she  thought,  the  most  in 
teresting  human  creatures  that  anybody  ever 
had  to  deal  with.  The  greatest  difference 
she  found  between  them  and  the  children  of 
her  own  country  was  their  extraordinary  en 
thusiasm  and  excitability.  To  restrain  them 
from  answering  a  question  whose  answer 
they  knew  was  like  trying  to  dam  a  moun 
tain  torrent.  The  boys  jumped  from  their 
seats  into  the  aisles  at  any  general  interro 
gation  as  if  they  had  been  shot  from  a  can 
non,  beating  their  breasts  and  crying  fran 
tically,  "  I,  I,  Mees  Mariquita,  I  know ! " 
and  even  the  more  conventional  girls  threw 
back  their  rebosos  excitedly  at  such  mo 
ments,  and  waved  their  hands  in  air  in  wild 
entreaty  to  be  allowed  to  respond. 

There  was  much  trouble  in  reducing  this 
vivacity  to  orderly  limits  and  it  even  caused 
slight  accidents  sometimes,  —  witness  the 
day  when  Vicente  Mariscal,  in  his  eagerness 
to  forestall  Carmencita  as  to  the  product 
of  12  X  10  X  3  X  20,  jumped  out  of  his 


124         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

seat  so  hurriedly  as  to  upset  his  table,  break 
his  ink-bottle,  tip  over  his  neighbor's  chair 
and  send  that  unfortunate  headlong  into 
the  street  through  the  open  window. 

Still  the  children  were  alive  to  their  very 
finger-tips,  were  thirsty  for  knowledge,  and 
in  all  their  small  rages  against  each  other 
and  the  height  of  their  hasty  tempers,  never 
turned  a  cold  look  upon,  nor  said  a  rude 
word  to  their  darling  "  Mees  Mariquita," 
already  their  beloved  teacher  and  dearest 
companion. 


CHAPTER  X. 

A   CHRISTMAS   FESTIVAL. 

"  THERE,  those  are  all  clone,"  sighed 
Mary,  with  a  long  breath  of  relief  as  she 
added  a  nut  she  had  been  gilding  to  the 
pile  in  a  basket  at  her  side. 

"  Then  if  you  are  not  too  fatigued,  ma'm- 
selle,  I  should  be  glad  of  your  help  on  these 
candy-bags,"  cried  Madame  Lafleur  quickly. 

"  I  'm  not  much  of  a  seamstress,  but  I  '11 
try  very  hard,  madame.  Why,  Lucina, 
what's  the  matter?" 

"  How  without  manners  is  that  Faus- 
tino !  "  cried  the  maiden  addressed,  rushing 
to  the  window,  her  black  braids  streaming 
in  her  wake  like  two  tails  of  a  comet. 
"  What  shame  thy  mother  would  have,  if 
she  could  see  thee,  graceless  one  !  " 

Mrs.  Vazquez,  Madame  Lafleur,  who  had 
come  down  from  the  mill  to  help,  Mary,  and 
Lucina  were  all  gathered  in  the  great  living- 
room,  making  ornaments  for  the  school 
Christmas-tree.  The  two  boys  had  been 


126         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

exiled  from  the  busy  scene,  and  in  order 
that  the  preparations  might  be  kept  quite 
secret  the  lower  shutters  had  been  closed, 
and  the  workers,  turning  their  backs  to  the 
light,  had  succeeded  in  making  a  living 
screen  of  themselves. 

The  wily  Faustino,  however,  had  set  all 
these  precautions  at  naught  by  stealing  out 
side  and  climbing  softly  up  the  window 
bars,  where  from  the  very  top  of  the  open 
ing  his  great  black  eyes  gloated  over  the 
bright  worsteds,  the  colored  papers,  the  bot 
tles  of  gilding,  the  nuts  and  raisuis,  and 
the  gay  red  and  white  American  candies. 
His  lips  had  opened  into  an  irrepressible 
"  O — h  !  "  of  admiration,  and  Lucina,  catch 
ing  the  sound,  had  flown  to  deal  vengeance 
upon  him.  He  tried  to  scramble  down  be 
fore  she  reached  the  window,  but  catching 
his  foot  in  the  grating,  hung  there,  uttering 
howls  of  mingled  fear,  remorse,  and  rage. 

"  Why,  Tino,"  cried  Mrs.  Vazquez,  rising 
hurriedly  from  her  seat,  "  don't  make  such 
a  noise !  Oh,  thank  fortune,  there  's  our 
neighbor ;  he  must  have  come  home  last 
night.  Raimundo  !  "  she  called,  "  do  come 
and  get  this  child  down,  and  if  you  're  going 
to  ride  can't  you  take  him  with  you  ?  We 


A  CHRISTMAS  FESTIVAL  127 

are  busy  with  Christmas  work  and  he  has 
been  very  troublesome  to-day.  How  do  you 
do  ?  "  reaching  her  hand  through  the  grat 
ings.  "  We  are  so  glad  to  see  you  again." 

"  I  am  always  very  well,  senora,  and  al 
ways  at  your  orders,"  answered  Mr.  Alta- 
mirano,  clattering  up  to  the  window.  .  .  . 
"  Turn  thy  foot  the  other  way  and  get  down, 
thou  monkey !  "  to  Faustino.  ..."  And  the 
Senorita  Annesley,  is  she  in  good  health  ?  " 

"  Perfect,  thank  you.  Come  in  and  see  us, 
Raimundo.  Emilio  's  at  home,  you  know." 

"  No,  is  he?  That  is  good  news.  I  '11  be 
in  this  evening  probably.  .  .  .  Jump  up, 
little  one,  and  behave  thyself  properly.  .  .  . 
I  'm  going  to  Escabras,  Barbarita,  and  may 
not  be  home  till  dusk.  Adios  !  " 

"  Adios,  amigo !  "  waving  her  hand.  "  I'm 
afraid,  Madame  Lafleur,  that  Tino  isn't 
getting  much  of  a  punishment  for  his 
naughty  tricks,"  she  said,  smiling,  as  she 
took  her  seat.  "  Both  the  boys  are  devoted 
to  Raimundo." 

It  was  well  that  this  holiday  week  was  so 
busy  and  so  full  of  happenings,  for  as  the 
blessed  Christmas  Day  drew  near,  Mary, 
whenever  she  had  time  for  thinking,  plunged 
into  bitter  waters  of  homesickness  that  en- 


128         UNDER  THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

gulfed  her  "  eye-deep,"  as  the  Mexican  say 
ing  is.  She  turned  her  thoughts  resolutely 
away  from  home,  recited  the  multiplication 
table  in  Spanish  when  she  felt  particularly 
depressed,  and  scolded  herself  fiercely  for 
daring  to  be  miserable  when  every  one  was 
so  good ;  and  yet  the  little  red  pillow,  only 
confidant  of  her  woes,  was  often  so  damp 
with  her  tears  at  night  that  it  had  to  be 
turned  over  before  she  could  go  to  sleep. 

She  was  really  uncomfortable  too,  both  at 
school  and  at  home,  for  the  weather  con 
tinued  cold,  the  ground  was  white  with  frost 
each  morning,  and  the  water  with  which 
Dona  Juana  sprinkled  the  courtyard  froze 
as  it  touched  the  bricks.  It  was  as  chilly 
by  night  as  by  day,  for  nobody  who  has  not 
slept  on  a  canvas-bottomed  cot  can  appre 
ciate  how  the  wind  whistles  through  it  in 
cold  weather,  especially  when  to  get  any  air 
at  all  it  is  necessary  to  leave  open  at  least 
nine  square  feet  of  shutter. 

One  night,  remembering  uncle  Bertram's 
stories  of  Maine  logging  camps,  Mary  wore 
woolen  stockings  sprinkled  with  cayenne 
pepper  to  bed,  and  certainly  did  not  suffer 
with  cold  feet  on  that  occasion,  whatever 
her  other  woes  may  have  been. 


A  CHRISTMAS   FESTIVAL  129 

Mr.  Vazquez,  or  Don  Emilio,  as  Mary  had 
learned  she  might  properly  address  him,  had 
returned  several  days  before,  and  proved  a 
delightful  addition  to  the  little  household. 
He  was  a  cultivated  man,  an  admirable  lin 
guist,  speaking  English  better  in  some  re 
spects  than  the  two  whose  mother  tongue  it 
was,  and  he  appeared  bent  from  the  first  in 
making  Miss  Annesley  equally  proficient  in 
Castilian.  The  Knight  of  the  Rueful  Coun 
tenance  declared  when  he  called,  it  is  true, 
pulling  his  pointed  beard  the  while,  that  she 
already  spoke  like  an  angel,  but  remember 
ing  that  he  was  a  young  man  and  a  Mexican, 
and  therefore  doubly  a  courtier,  the  flattered 
maiden  accepted  this  compliment  with  several 
grains  of  salt. 

Don  Emilio  had  entered  heartily  into  the 
plans  for  the  Christmas-tree  and  school  fes 
tival,  to  be  held  at  his  house  on  the  evening 
of  the  twenty-third,  and  had  invited  all  the 
best  people  in  town  to  be  present,  including 
Padre  Romero,  the  priest,  and  Mary's  criti 
cal  acquaintance,  old  Don  Alberto. 

The  school-children  were  so  wildly  ex 
cited  at  the  prospect,  for  Christmas  gifts 
are  not  common,  nor  Christmas-trees  in  use 
in  Mexico,  that  they  resembled  nothing  so 


130         UNDER  THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

much  as  a  spoonful  of  spilled  quicksilver. 
They  had  made  their  own  preparations  for 
the  occasion,  the  boys  having  indited  elabo 
rate  letters  to  their  parents  to  show  their  pro 
gress  in  composition  and  penmanship,  and 
the  girls  having  each  fashioned  some  little 
gift  also.  They  had  practiced  until  perfect 
the  motion-play  of  "  The  Farmer,"  pronoun 
cing  the  words  very  nicely,  had  learned  an 
English  and  a  Spanish  hymn,  and  had  also 
become  familiar  with  the  English  names  of 
a  great  many  common  objects,  which  know 
ledge,  though  they  were  unconscious  of  the 
fact,  their  proud  teacher  proposed  to  exhibit 
at  the  festival. 

At  noon  on  the  great  day,  while  Mary  and 
Lucina  were  resting  under  the  orange-trees, 
a  clatter  of  hoofs  was  heard  in  the  zajnian, 

O 

and  the  Knight  of  the  Rueful  Countenance 
came  prancing  into  the  courtyard,  such  a 
gallant  figure  that  both  girls  flew  to  the 
orchard  gate  to  gaze  upon  him  with  admir 
ing  eyes.  He  remarked,  casually,  that  he 
was  on  his  way  to  the  mill  at  Las  Flores 
to  order  some  flour,  and  that  he  had  come 
to  see  if  Barbarita  had  any  messages  for 
Madame  Lafleur.  There  is  no  reason  to 
doubt  his  veracity ;  he  may  of  course  have 


A  CHRISTMAS   FESTIVAL  131 

been  going  to  the  mill,  though  he  seemed  in 
no  hurry  about  it,  and  his  costume  appeared 
much  better  calculated  for  a  promenade  in 
the  streets  of  a  metropolis  than  for  a  dusty 
country  ride. 

"  Oh,  what  a  beauty  of  a  horse  !  "  cried 
Mary,  clapping  her  hands.  "  I  have  n't 
seen  one  like  him  since  I  left  home.  What 
is  his  name  ?  Will  he  let  me  give  him  some 
panocha?  " 

"  He  is  at  your  orders,  senorita.  His 
name  is  Favorito,  and  he  will  be  much  hon 
ored  if  you  feed  him,"  and  Don  Raimundo 
dismounted  and  threw  his  bridle  over  the 
cactus  fence. 

Mary  came  through  the  gate  and  held 
out  a  handful  of  sugar  to  the  satin-smooth, 
fire-eyed  creature,  who  lifted  it  daintily  from 
her  palm  with  his  velvet  lips. 

On  a  nearer  view,  it  was  difficult  to  tell 
whether  most  to  admire  Favorito,  his  trap 
pings,  or  his  picturesque  rider,  and  Mary 
gave  audible  praise  to  the  two  former  while 
she  honored  their  owner  with  a  good  many 
sidelong  glances  under  lowered  lashes.  The 
knight  himself  was  as  pensive  as  ever,  with 
his  golden-brown  skin,  soft  dark  eyes,  droop 
ing  lids,  and  heavy  brows,  but  King  Sol- 


132         UNDER   THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

onion  himself  might  well  have  been  jeal 
ous  of  his  raiment.  His  short,  graceful 
riding-jacket  was  a  mass  of  silver  embroid 
ery,  his  pearl-gray,  steeple-crowned  som 
brero  was  bordered  deep  with  silver  braid 
and  adorned  with  a  heavy-tasseled  rope  of 
silver;  his  dark  riding-trousers,  widening 
from  thigh  to  ankle,  were  open  down  the 
side  seams  and  clasped  across  with  tiny  sil 
ver  shells,  under  which  could  be  seen  the 
snowy  folds  of  the  "  calzoncillo,"  or  riding- 
drawers,  and  around  his  waist  was  a  wide, 
curiously  ornamented  leather  belt,  into  which 
was  thrust  a  silver-mounted  pistol.  Heavy 
silver  spurs  jangled  as  he  walked,  and  the 
metal  was  repeated  on  Favorite's  headstall 
and  reins,  which  were  of  pure  silver  filigree 
work,  with  gold  slides  and  mountings. 

And  the  heavy  Mexican  saddle  !  Ah, 
that  was  a  poem  of  ornamentation,  though 
none  but  a  strong  horse  might  support  the 
weight  of  its  magnificence.  It  was  of  black 
leather,  the  flaps  and  stirrup-hangings  artis 
tically  stamped  with  flowers  embroidered  in 
silver  threads,  the  seat  lined  with  silver, 
and  the  high  pommel  of  the  precious  metal 
beautifully  chased  and  engraved.  The  sur 
cingle  was  of  black  and  white  horsehair 


A  CHRISTMAS   FESTIVAL  133 

cunningly  woven  into  a  pattern,  and  the 
rings  through  which  the  straps  passed  were 
of  shining  silver  also. 

While  Mary  was  still  exclaiming  over 
these  glories,  Mr.  Vazquez  appeared  in  the 
doorway. 

"  Ay,  amigo  !  "  he  cried.  "  What  means 
this  grandeur  ?  Is  it  some  saint's  day  that 
we  have  all  forgotten  ?  " 

Don  Raimundo  swung  himself  into  the 
saddle,  flushing  a  little  under  his  dusky 
skin.  "I'm  going  to  Las  Flores  on  an 
errand,  that 's  all,"  he  said,  whereupon  Fa- 
vorito  began  to  stand  on  his  hind  legs,  to 
curvet  and  to  prance  in  a  way  that  showed 
his  rider's  horsemanship  to  great  advantage, 
and  indicated,  also,  that  he  had  a  soul  above 
errands,  if  his  owner  had  not. 

"  Ah,  indeed  !  "  commented  Mr.  Vazquez 
dryly ;  "  well,  you  'd  better  start,  or  you 
won't  get  back  for  the  Christmas-tree.  If 
you  meet  a  highway  robber  between  here  and 
the  mill,  you  can  toss  him  one  of  those  spurs. 
It  would  buy  him  food  for  a  week,  you  spend 
thrift." 

By  seven  o'clock  that  evening  the  great 
room  where  the  tree  was  set  was  trimmed 


134         UNDER  THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

with  boughs,  the  gallant  horseman  return 
ing  in  time  to  assist  in  the  decorations ; 
Felices  Pascuas  (Merry  Christmas)  was 
set  in  green  letters  between  the  windows, 
and  the  tree  itself  was  really  a  vision  of 
beauty,  with  its  oranges,  limes,  cornballs, 
gilded  nuts,  and  candy-bags. 

The  shutters  were  kept  closed  until  the 
guests  had  all  assembled,  and  then  they 
were  thrown  wide  and  the  Christmas  candles 
were  lighted.  The  priest  was  there,  ap 
parently  not  in  the  least  troubled  lest  such 
festivities  should  beguile  his  people  into 
Protestantism  ;  Don  Alberto,  white-haired, 
brown,  and  wrinkled,  sat  in  the  corner,  lean 
ing  on  his  stick ;  Don  Tiburcio  Ramirez  de 
Aragon  was  there ;  Sefior  Bandini,  an  ar 
dent  patron  of  the  school,  sat  in  the  front 
row  of  chairs,  with  his  six  grown-up  daugh 
ters  ;  every  mother,  father,  grandfather, 
grandmother,  aunt,  uncle,  sister,  brother, 
and  cousin  of  each  of  the  children  was  pre 
sent,  and  crowning  joy  of  all,  for  Lucina 
at  least,  her  mother  sat  beaming  by  the 
window,  having  jogged  down  on  horseback 
from  the  ranch,  in  front  of  her  brother, 
Don  Andres. 

The  room  was  much  more  than  comfort- 


A  CHRISTMAS  FESTIVAL  135 

ably  filled  with  invited  guests,  the  window 
gratings  outside  hung  full  of  curious  people, 
pressing  their  dark  faces  against  the  bars ; 
the  doors  leading  into  the  courtyard  were  so 
crowded  as  to  make  it  impossible  to  pass, 
and  after  a  half -hour  tables  and  chairs  were 
brought  into  the  street  and  men  stood  on 

O 

them,  one  above  another,  till  the  sea  of 
heads  was  like  the  rows  in  a  theatre. 

The  children  all  looked  well,  though  Lu- 
cina,  who  was  an  undoubted  beauty,  was  the 
star  of  them  all,  and  Mary's  bosom  swelled 
with  pride  as  she  gazed  upon  the  flock, 
and  rejoiced  unspeakably  that  it  was  hers. 
When  the  tree  had  been  thoroughly  ad- 
inired,  the  exercises  began,  the  children  be 
having  like  so  many  Chesterfields,  and  even 
Pedro  and  Lauro  delightfully  smiling  and 
obedient. 

First  there  was  the  Spanish  hymn,  the 
entire  school  standing  in  a  circle  around  the 
tree  and  facing  outward,  and  then  the  Eng 
lish  song  was  sung ;  then,  "  The  Farmer  " 
was  played  with  perfect  grace  and  abandon, 
the  older  lads  not  disdaining  in  the  least  to 
sow,  to  reap,  to  bind,  and  to  winnow  with 
the  little  ones ;  and  then  all  were  seated,  and 
Mary,  with  excited  blue  eyes  and  cheeks  of 


136         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

deepest  rose,  took  her  pointer,  a  stick  of 
sugar-cane,  in  hand,  and  began  an  exercise 
which  was  an  entire  surprise  to  the  children. 
She  pointed  to  the  tree,  its  lights,  its  orna 
ments,  the  gifts  which  hung  upon  it,  and 
asked  in  English  the  name  of  each  object. 
Several  children  were  able  to  answer  in 
every  case,  and  frequently  they  all  shouted 
together  with  such  vigor  that  the  beams 
shook  above. 

Vicente  Mariscal,  in  his  excitement, 
danced  about  so  like  a  dervish  that  Mary, 
fearing  he  would  set  himself  on  fire  at  the 
candles,  was  finally  obliged  to  hold  him  down 
with  her  left  hand  while  she  pointed  with 
the  right.  She  asked  other  simple  questions 
sometimes,  as  to  the  shape  and  color  and  use 
of  the  object,  and  the  unfailing  English  an 
swers  brought  the  heartiest  applause  from 
the  audience,  supplemented  by  an  occasional 
excited  Viva !  which  seemed  to  come  from 
Don  Alberto's  corner. 

When  this  successful  performance  was 
brought  to  a  close,  the  children  presented 
the  gifts  they  had  made  to  their  parents, 
and  then  delightedly  received  their  own  — 
each  pupil  of  the  school  being  remembered 
with  a  bag  of  candy,  an  orange,  a  cornball, 


A   CHRISTMAS   FESTIVAL  137 

a  cornucopia  of  nuts,  and  a  bright  picture. 
All  the  children  in  the  audience  were  given 
a  piece  of  American  candy  and  an  orange, 
and  Mary  asked  permission  to  hand  through 
the  gratings  to  the  crowd  outside  the  popped 
corn,  nuts,  and  limes  that  remained. 

Then  the  tree,  shorn  of  all  its  glories,  was 
removed,  and  Mr.  Vazquez  made  a  brief 
address,  thanking  the  guests  for  their  pre 
sence,  explaining  the  aims  of  the  school,  and 
for  the  sake  of  Ceritas  begging  support  for 
this  new  enterprise  which  had  already  done 
so  much  good  to  the  children  of  the  town. 

Two  guitars  and  a  harp  appeared  at  this 
juncture,  and  the  guests  fell  to  dancing,  but 
Mary  sank  on  a  bench  by  the  door,  con 
scious,  at  last,  of  overwhelming  fatigue. 
Carmencita  flew  to  the  charmed  spot  and 
crouched  on  the  floor  at  her  feet,  gazing  up 
into  her  face  like  a  devotee  at  the  image  of 
his  saint,  Lmcina  held  her  hand,  three  or 
four  of  the  boys  gathered  around,  and  so 
Don  Raimundo  found  them  when  he  came 
to  ask  the  favor  of  Senorita  Annesley's  hand 
for  a  polka. 

Seiiorita  Annesley  thanked  him,  but  was 
too  tired  to  dance,  she  said,  and  so  she  was, 
—  but  she  felt  a  trifle  shy,  too,  of  this  hand- 


138         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

some  young  man  who  always  looked  as  if  he 
had  a  secret  sorrow,  and  seemed,  compared 
with  Jack  Martin,  or  any  of  the  boys  she  had 
ever  known,  so  grave  and  reverend  a  sig- 
nior.  Raimundo  was  at  that  moment  some 
years  short  of  thirty,  and  the  sorrows  whose 
depths  seemed  to  shadow  his  soft  dark  eyes 
were  entirely  a  product  of  the  little  maid's 
imagination,  but  that,  of  course,  she  could 
hardly  know,  and  he  always  remained  to 
her  the  Knight  of  the  Rueful  Countenance. 
The  next  day  was  a  school  holiday  and 
seemed  a  trifle  dull  after  the  festival,  but 
Mary  found  an  excellent  tonic  for  the  blues 
in  exhaustive  house-cleaning  in  her  own  and 
Lucina's  premises.  Her  room-mate  assisted, 
and  they  swept  and  dusted  thoroughly,  chat 
tering  volubly  the  while.  There  were  no 
windows  to  be  washed  and  no  way  of  decorat 
ing  the  bags  of  beans,  so  the  task  was  soon 
over,  and  Mrs.  Vazquez,  coming  in,  suggested 
making  candy  by  way  of  celebration.  Mary 
flew  to  the  kitchen  for  a  pail  to  gather  the 
broken  panocha  on  the  storeroom  shelves, 
and  tripping  gayly  along  the  stone  walk,  dis 
covered  just  as  she  reached  her  door  a  large 
and  venerable  scorpion  in  the  bottom  of  the 
vessel,  eying  her  with  an  evil  glance.  The 


A  CHRISTMAS   FESTIVAL  139 

pail  immediately  clanged  on  the  stones,  and 
was  accompanied  by  such  a  startled  scream 
that  Don  Emilio  hurried  to  the  rescue,  com 
fortably  remarking  as  he  disposed  of  the 
reptile  that  she  'd  get  used  to  such  things 
before  long. 

The  candy  was  made,  however,  in  spite  of 
this  interruption,  and  proved  so  good  that 
much  of  it  was  consumed  after  luncheon, 
while  Mr.  Vazquez  read  them  a  Christmas 
story  of  Francois  Coppee's. 

Upon  this  literary  circle  descended,  after 
an  hour  or  so,  a  band  of  desperadoes,  headed 
by  Placido  Lopez,  who  took  "Mees  Mari- 
quita  "  captive,  and  carried  her  off  to  haunts 
among  the  hills.  She  had  promised  for  a 
week  to  take  a  walk  with  them,  they  said, 
and  this  mild  afternoon  was  just  the  time. 
They  wandered  to  the  top  of  the  high  mesa 
back  of  the  town,  and  sitting  on  a  heap  of 
stones,  while  the  sun  sank  behind  the  Cerro 
de  la  Ventana,  Mary  told  them  the  sweet 
Christmas  story  she  had  just  heard,  —  "  Les 
Sabots  du  petit  Wolff." 

Though  the  translation  from  French  into 
Spanish  was  doubtless  as  full  of  mistakes 
as  a  pudding  of  plums,  yet  the  children 
were  breathless  and  absorbed,  and  if  Mary's 


140         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

forget-me-not  eyes  were  veiled  with  mois 
ture,  when  she  told  of  the  wondrous  miracle 
that  rewarded  Wolff's  tender  charity,  you 
may  be  sure  that  answering  tears  stood  thick 
in  every  dark  eye  in  the  group,  while  Car- 
mencita  crossed  herself  devoutly,  and  mur 
mured,  "  Bendito  sea  Dios.'?  1 

The  story  over,  children  and  teacher  ran 
races  down  the  hill,  and  coming  breathless 
home  discovered,  as  a  delightful  close  to  the 
excursion,  that  the  weekly  mail  had  come 
in. 

There  was  a  huge  two-story  box  for  Mary, 
which  on  being  opened  disclosed,  above,  a 
wreath  of  real  English  holly,  under  which 
were  a  dozen  blue  -  jay's  wings,  carefully 
stretched  and  cured,  while  in  the  lower  com 
partment  was  a  heap  of  delicious  sugar 
plums  and  a  card  in  Jack  Martin's  hand, 
"  Arizona  to  Mexico,  Christinas  Greeting." 

Mary  thought  the  writing  looked  rather 
unsteady  and  hoped  the  boy  was  n't  ill,  but 
couldn't  help  forgetting  all  about  him  as 
she  opened  a  large  envelope  and  caught  a 
sudden  view  of  Celia's  photograph,  taken 
especially,  so  it  said,  for  her  Christmas  pre 
sent. 

1  Blessed  be  God. 


A  CHRISTMAS  FESTIVAL  141 

How  lovely  was  the  soft  oval  of  that  face, 
how  dear  those  long,  dark  eyes,  how  famil 
iar  the  pose  of  the  head,  with  its  twisted 
coronal  of  hair !  A  sob  came  into  Mary's 
throat  despite  herself,  as  she  dwelt  on  every 
well-remembered  outline  of  the  gracious 
figure,  and  glancing  about  to  see  that  her 
friends  were  equally  absorbed  with  Christ 
mas  packages,  she  caught  up  a  lantern  and 
fled  to  her  own  room,  there  to  read  her  let 
ters  by  its  dim  light,  and  to  gaze  upon  the 
beloved  face  in  cold  and  homesick  solitude. 


CHAPTER   XI. 


THERE  was  a  step  on  the  stone-paved 
walk  outside  Mary's  bower,  a  tap  at  her 
door,  and  Mr.  Vazquez  called,  "  Are  you 
ready,  Miss  Annesley  ?  We  want  to  start 
in  a  few  minutes,  or  at  least,"  half  laughing-, 
44  as  soon  as  the  usual  search  for  Tino's  hat 
is  made." 

44  Ready  ?  "  Mary  repeated  mechanically, 
wrenched  with  a  painful  jerk  from  Glen 
Ellen  back  to  Ceritas,  from  tearful  dream 
ing  to  present  duty.  4'  Ready  ?  why,  for 
what  ?  Where  are  we  going  ?  " 

Yet  as  Mr.  Vazquez's  steps  were  heard 
retreating,  she  remembered  that  the  whole 
family  had  been  invited  to  Senora  Garcia's, 
Lucina's  relative  with  whom  her  mother  was 
staying,  to  celebrate  the  44  Good  Night  "  and 
to  taste  the  native  dishes  peculiar  to  the 
season. 

She  flew  to  dress  and  to  bathe  her  swollen 

1  Christmas  eve  ;  literally,  the  Good  Night. 


LA  NOCHE  BUENA  143 

eyes,  and  made  such  good  speed  that  the 
cook  had  only  just  been  dismissed  for  the 
night,  and  Tino's  hat  been  found  in  the 
store  room,  near  the  panocha  shelf,  when 
she  made  her  appearance,  brave  in  the  best 
of  her  made-over  gowns. 

Mrs.  Vazquez  noted  at  once  the  tell-tale 
eyes  and  pale  cheeks  of  her  charge,  and 
took  her  hand  with  a  warm  grasp,  keeping  it 
under  her  arm  with  a  comforting  pat  now 
and  then  until  they  reached  the  Garcias' 
door  and  entered  the  brightly  lighted  room, 
its  shutters  all  fast  closed  against  the  too 
interested  populace. 

"  Feliz  noche  buena  !  "  [Happy  Christ 
mas  eve  !]  everybody  cried  as  the  party  en 
tered,  and  everybody  seemed  exceedingly  gay 
and  merry,  for  the  eve  is  more  celebrated 
than  the  day  itself  in  Spanish  countries. 

Doiia  Rosita,  Lucina's  mother,  had  helped 
to  prepare  the  dainties,  all  of  which  were 
unfamiliar  to  Mary,  except  the  frijoles  and 
tortillas,  invariable  accompaniment  of  every 
meal  in  Mexico. 

There  were  tamales  first,  —  chicken,  corn- 
meal,  and  a  sprinkle  of  chili  pepper  carefully 
mixed  together  and  prettily  rolled  in  a  series 
of  corn-husks  from  which  they  issued  steam 
ing  hot. 


144         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

There  were  buiiuelos,  —  thin  cakes  fried 
crisp,  and  eaten  with  hot  syrup  of  panocha, 
and  particularly  associated  with  the  season, 
it  seemed;  and  there  were  enchiladas  also, 
wonderful  compounds  of  cheese,  sardines, 
olives,  and  red  pepper,  the  seasoning  being 
so  liberally  supplied  that  the  little  Ameri 
can  gasped  like  a  fish  out  of  water,  and  was 
forced  to  decline,  for  a  while,  the  other 
dainties  pressed  upon  her. 

She  recovered,  luckily,  in  time  to  partake 
of  pepitoria,  the  molasses  candy  sprinkled 
with  pumpkin  seeds,  which  she  always  en 
joyed,  and  also  of  cubiertos,  sweetmeats  made 
from  the  thick  flesh  of  the  bisnaga,  or  barrel 
cactus.  These  last  were  particularly  tooth 
some,  tasting  rather  like  crystallized  fruit, 
with  some  delicious  foreign  difference.  Later 
on  in  the  evening,  between  the  songs  and 
the  stories,  chocolate  was  served,  frothed 
high  with  a  wooden  instrument  which  was 
cunningly  ridged  and  notched  so  as  to  pro 
duce  mountains  of  foam  as  it  whirled  swiftly 
around  in  experienced  hands. 

"Ah,  Miss  Annesley,"  sighed  Don  Emi- 
lio,  as  he  sipped  his  chocolate,  "  I  wish  we 
could  show  you  the  '  Pastores,'  the  Christ 
mas  plays  we  used  to  have  in  the  larger 


A    BAKER'S    BOY 


LA  NOG  HE  BUENA  145 

towns  when  I  was  a  child.  Do  you  remem 
ber,  Kosita,"  turning  to  Mrs.  Mariscal,  "  the 
grand  '  Pastores  '  thy  father  took  us  to  see 
in  Ures  once  ?  " 

"  Remember !  "  said  Dona  Eosita  pen 
sively,  "  I  was  n't  more  than  six  years  old, 
but  I  remember  every  word  and  every  song. 
What  delight  it  was  and  how  excited  we 
were ! " 

"  Tell  about  it,  mamacita,"  cried  Lucina, 
leaning  on  her  mother's  shoulder ;  "  thou 
hast  not  told  us  for  ages." 

"  Let  thy  godfather  tell  thee,  little  daugh 
ter  ;  he  was  there,  and  he  is  more  wonted  to 
speaking  in  company  than  a  ranchera  like 
me." 

"  Oh,  tell  us,  nino !  "  [godfather]  begged 
Lucina,  and  "  Do  tell  them,  Emilio,"  said 
Mrs.  Vazquez. 

The  rest  of  the  company  joining  in  the 
entreaty,  Mr.  Vazquez  leaned  back  in  his 
chair,  and  with  reflective  gaze  at  the  leap 
ing  fire  began  his  reminiscences  in  a  rapid 
flow  of  Castilian  which  Mary  proudly  felt 
was  now  perfectly  intelligible  to  her. 

"  If  thou  wert  only  six  years  old,  Rosita, 
it  must  have  been  the  year  after  thy  good 
mother  left  us." 


14G         UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

"  Blessed  be  her  soul ! "  cried  Mrs.  Ma- 
riscal,  fervently  crossing  herself. 

"  liosita  and  I  were  brought  up  together, 
you  know,  Miss  Mary,  for  my  parents  died 
when  I  was  a  baby  and  they  took  me  under 
their  wing  at  Bacanuchi,  the  family  ranch 
Lucina  has  told  you  of  so  often.  Rosita's 
father  was  making  a  week's  visit  that  season 
at  a  great  estate  near  Ures,  and  had  taken 
us  with  him,  two  little  motherless  creatures 
as  we  were. 

"  Early  on  the  day  before  Christmas  the 
ladies  and  children  of  the  family,  a  merry 
company,  all  laughing  and  chattering  and 
singing,  were  packed  into  a  gayly  decorated 
ox-cart,  and  we  set  off  to  town. 

"  Do  you  remember  how  grand  our  cart 
was,  Rosita  ?  We  thought  it  was  the  finest 
of  all,  and  we  had  good  reason.  It  was 
canopied  with  a  silken  bedspread,  embroid 
ered  with  bright  flowers,  children,  and  the 
fringe  was  so  deep  that  it  hung  over  the  lace 
curtains  underneath  and  reached  the  axles. 

"  Thy  grandfather,  boys,  rode  alongside 
as  escort,  with  all  the  other  gentlemen,  and 
what  joy  thou  wouldst  have  had  in  their 
horses,  Vicente,  —  for  people  took  care  to 
choose  the  best  of  all  their  herds  for  the 


LA  NOCHE   BUENA  147 

Christmas  Fiestas.  We  seldom  see  such 
animals  nowadays,  more  's  the  pity,  for  the 
breed  has  run  down  very  much,  especially 
here  in  the  north. 

"Well,  the  whole  road  that  day,  I  re 
member,  was  crowded  with  decorated  carts, 
prancing  horses,  bright  silver  trappings,  and 
splendid  riders,  and  as  the  carts  passed  each 
other,  ladies  and  children  parted  the  dra 
peries,  smiling  and  waving  hands,  and  calling 
out  holiday  greetings. 

"  Fortunately  for  us  little  ones  we  reached 
town  early  enough  to  see  all  the  prepara 
tions  for  the  '  Pastores,'  and,  another  piece 
of  great  luck,  we  found  that  the  play  was  to 
be  given  in  the  courtyard  of  the  very  house 
we  were  to  visit. 

"  When  we  drove  in,  Indians  were  unload 
ing  carts  full  of  willow  branches  and  tule, 
the  walls  were  being  decorated,  booths  put 
in  place  for  the  sale  of  fruit  and  sweetmeats 
and  tamales,  men  were  fighting  for  choice 
locations,  shouting  orders  and  calling  to  and 
fro,  and  in  a  few  places,  where  the  stalls 
were  finished,  the  proprietors  were  singing 
and  twanging  their  guitars.  To  add  to  the 
delightful  noise  and  confusion,  some  Yaquis, 
who  had  already  partaken  of  too  much 


148         UNDER  THE  CACTUS   FLAG 

Christmas  cheer,  were  droning  their  weird 
chants  over  in  the  orchard,  and  Rosa  and 
I  were  so  fascinated  by  all  the  proceedings 
that  we  could  not  be  kept  at  the  dinner- 
table,  and  had  to  be  dragged  to  supper  by 
main  force." 

"  Thou  wert  screaming  and  kicking  in 
my  father's  arms  all  the  way  to  the  dining- 
room.  I  can  see  thee  now,"  laughed  Mrs. 
Mariscal. 

"  I  dare  say  I  was,  and  very  badly  trained 
they  must  have  thought  me  ;  but  when  it 
grew  dark,  and  we  were  sent  into  the  court 
yard  again,  and  the  actors  plunged  candle- 
wicks  into  bowls  of  melted  tallow  and  set 
them  here  and  there  on  the  adobe  walls, 
then  the  scene  was  like  veritable  fairy  land. 

"  4  Los  Pastores '  (the  shepherds)  was  a 
kind  of  sacred  drama  performed  by  strolling 
players,  you  know,"  turning  to  Mary,  "  the 
same  sort  of  thing,  I  suppose,  that  they  used 
to  call  a  4  Mystery '  in  early  English  days, 
and  very  like  the  performances  that  the 
Christinas  mummers  still  give  in  some  parts 
of  Austria  and  Germany." 

"Was  it  something  like  the  Passion 
Play  ?  "  asked  Mary. 

"  Yes,  so  far  as  it  represented  sacred  his- 


LA   NOCHE  BUENA  149 

tory,  —  but  of  course  it  was  an  extremely 
simple  thing,  in  three  brief  scenes,  with 
quaint,  traditional  words  and  music.  The 
principal  characters,  as  I  remember  them, 
were  the  Archangel  Michael,  the  devil,  a 
chorus  of  shepherds,  and  Bartolo,  a  clumsy, 
clown-like  fellow,  who  supplied  the  humor 
of  the  drama. 

"  When  the  guests  were  all  seated  and  as 
many  of  the  Indians  and  dependents  had 
crowded  in  as  could  be  packed  into  the 
space,  the  play  began. 

"  The  first  scene  showed  the  shepherds 
watching  their  flocks  by  night,  and  very 
pretty  and  realistic  it  was  in  that  dim  light, 
with  the  stars  for  a  roof  ;  in  the  second,  the 
archangel,  an  impressive,  white-robed  figure, 
entered,  and  announcing  the  birth  of  Christ, 
commanded  the  shepherds  to  visit  the  manger 
and  fall  before  him  in  adoration. 

"  Just  at  this  point  the  devil  leaped  into 
sight,  and  he  really  was  so  horrible  with  his 
tail  and  hoofs  and  horns,  in  the  half-light 
of  the  flickering  torches,  that  Rosita  there 
screamed  and  hid  her  head  on  her  father's 
shoulder  as  if  she  thought  His  Majesty  was 
going  to  carry  her  off." 

"  Yes,   and   if   you  remember,   Emilio," 


150         UNDER  THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

cried  Mrs.  Mariscal,  "  some  of  the  Yaquis 
were  so  terrified  that  they  scrambled  over 
the  wall,  calling  on  the  saints  with  all  their 
might,  and  they  could  not  be  coaxed  near 
the  house  till  next  day." 

"  It  didn't  have  that  effect  on  me," 
laughed  Don  Emilio.  "  I  'd  have  given 
everything  I  had  in  the  world  to  play  that 
part  and  stamp  about  the  courtyard  with 
those  cloven  hoofs." 

*'  Well,  in  the  second  scene  the  devil  does 
his  utmost  to  dissuade  the  shepherds  from 
journeying  to  worship  the  new-born  Babe, 
and  the  lazy  Bartolo  lies  there  on  his  sheep 
skin,  cracking  jokes,  ridiculing  his  com 
rades,  and  making  a  very  efficient  devil's 
aid.  But  you  need  not  suppose  there  was 
any  irreverence  about  the  play  ;  it  was  all 
done  very  simply  and  seriously,  and  cer 
tainly  made  a  great  impression  on  two  little 
ones,  I  know,  —  is  it  not  so,  Rosita  ? 

"  The  last  scene  opened  in  the  stable  at 
Bethlehem,  the  Holy  Family  being  invisible 
and  supposed  to  be  sleeping  in  the  darkness 
at  the  back  of  the  cave. 

"  The  shepherds  press  toward  the  en 
trance,  and  the  devil,  standing  in  front  of 
them,  is  barring  their  passage  with  out- 


LA  NOCHE  BUENA  151 

stretched  arms,  when  the  shining  white  arch 
angel  rushes  in  with  drawn  sword,  and  chal 
lenges  the  fiend  to  mortal  combat." 

"  What  a  splendid  scene  !  "  cried  Mary, 
while  the  boys  and  Lucina  leaned  forward 
with  dilated  eyes  and  parted  lips. 

"  It  certainly  was  very  impressive,  and  I 
wish  you  could  have  seen  the  wild  enthusi 
asm  among  the  spectators ;  many  of  them 
standing  up  in  their  chairs,  some  rising  to 
their  feet  and  pressing  toward  the  front, 
others  clutching  their  neighbors'  hands,  and 
actually  sobbing  in  their  excitement. 

"  And  then  you  should  have  heard  the 
clamors  of  4  Viva !  '  and  thunders  of  ap 
plause  when  the  devil  was  vanquished  at 
last,  and  in  the  midst  of  a  kneeling  group 
of  shepherds  Michael  set  his  foot  upon  the 
writhing  body  of  his  enemy  and  waved  his 
shining  sword  in  air." 

44  Splendid  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Vazquez  ; 
"  and  it  must  have  been  very  well  played, 
too,  when  it  impressed  a  little  boy  so  much. 
.  .  .  But  hark,  what  is  that  ?  Why,  listen 
to  the  bells  and  look  at  these  children,  and 
Mariquita  too,  up  till  midnight  and  going  to 
4  La  Misa  del  Gallo '  at  four  in  the  morning !  " 

There    was    a    chorus    of    exclamations, 


152         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

wraps  were  hastily  sought,  good-nights  said, 
and  the  little  company  went  out  into  the 
quiet  streets,  the  boys  Mary's  escort  on 
either  hand.  The  bells  were  ringing,  ring 
ing,  ringing,  rocking  their  towers  in  an  ec 
stasy  of  joy  over  the  "  Good  Night,"  peal 
ing  out  with  the  splendid  strength  of  their 
iron  voices  over  and  over  again  their  glori 
ous  message  :  — 

"  The  Christ  is  born  !   the  Lord  has  come 
Good-will  on  earth  to  bring." 

"  Listen  to  the  bells,  Mary,"  cried  Mrs. 
Vazquez.  "What  a  rapture  there  is  in  every 
one  of  them !  And  hear  the  cock  crowing 
far  in  the  distance !  He  is  calling,  '  Cristo 
nacio ! '  [Christ  is  born !  ]  you  know,  so  the 
Spanish  saying  is,  and  that 's  why  the  mass 
on  Christmas  morning  is  called  '  La  Misa 
del  Gallo,'  for  the  cocks  are  all  awake  then 
and  pealing  out  the  story." 

"  And  the  cattle  too,  Mees  Meh-ree,  they 
know,"  said  Lucina  softly,  pressing  to  her 
side ;  "  they  all  kneel  to  Babe  Jesus  as  soon 
as  the  midnight  bells  ring." 

"Little  Bethlehem,  sacred  Bethlehem, 
looked  very  much  as  Ceritas  does  now,  on 
the  night  of  Christ's  birth,  children,"  said 


LA  NOCHE  BUENA  153 

Mr.  Vazquez  gravely.  "  I  walked  its  dark 
streets  one  winter  evening  and  thought  of 
my  native  village  as  I  passed  the  low,  flat- 
roofed  houses.  It  was  on  just  such  a  night 
of  stars,  too,"  looking  up  to  their  dazzling 
brightness,  "  that  the  angel  of  the  Lord 
came  to  the  shepherds  and  the  glory  of  the 
Lord  shone  round  about  them." 

There  was  a  reverent  stillness  in  the 
group,  as  "  that  solemn  midnight  centuries 
ago  "  was  thus  brought  so  close  to  fancy, 
and  not  a  word  was  spoken  until  Mrs. 
Vazquez  began  to  sing  in  an  undertone,  — 

"  0  little  town  of  Bethlehem, 
How  still  we  see  thee  lie !  " 

Mary  joined  her  fresh  young  voice  to  the 
melody,  and  as  she  threw  herself  on  her  cot 
to  rest  before  "  La  Misa  del  Gallo,"  as  pre 
sently  bands  of  people,  all  singing,  began  to 
stream  by  her  grated  windows,  as  by  and  by 
she  listened  in  the  crowded  church  to  the 
impressive  service,  she  seemed  to  hear  no 
foreign  language,  but  over  and  over  again, 
in  her  own  home-tongue,  just  these  words  :  — 

"  Yet  in  thy  dark  streets  shineth 

The  Everlasting  Light, 
The  hopes  and  fears  of  all  the  years 
Are  met  in  thee  to-night." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE    COMING   OF   SPRING. 

SPRING  was  wandering  through  Sonora, 
and  at  the  kiss  of  her  soft  feet  the  grass- 
blades  all  began  to  peep,  and  leaves  and 
blossoms  everywhere  unfolded  as  her  rosy 
fingers  touched  them.  The  first  week  of 
March  had  barely  opened,  yet  here  was 
Mary  writing  letters  in  the  orchard  under 
orange-trees  that  were  bowers  of  fragrant 
bloom,  while  on  a  chair  at  her  side  sat  two 
fat  brown  jugs,  one  holding  a  spray  of 
deepest  pink  almond  blossoms,  the  other  a 
branch  of  white  lilies  with  long  golden 
stamens. 

The  letters  were  important  ones,  for  they 
were  to  Glen  Ellen,  and  the  weekly  mail 
was  to  leave  next  morning ;  yet  the  pen 
often  halted  as  the  rosy  scribe  leaned  over 
to  take  long  breaths  of  the  flowers,  or  lifted 
her  eyes  to  the  Cerro  de  la  Ventana,  whose 
deep  caiions  were  filled  with  the  soft  blue 
haze  of  afternoon. 


THE  COMING  OF  SPRING  155 

Three  months'  teaching  had  certainly  not 
impaired  Miss  Annesley's  health,  if  one 
might  judge  from  appearances,  though  every 
Friday  night  during  that  time  she  had  de 
clared  herself  worn  to  the  bone  and  her  wits 
absolutely  threadbare.  The  school  had  thus 
far  seemed  to  give  perfect  satisfaction  to 
everybody  concerned,  one  patron  declaring 
to  Mrs.  Vazquez  that  whatever  the  teacher 
had  of  youth,  she  had  also  of  beauty  and 
goodness,  and  that  the  sum  total  was  above 
improvement. 

Mary  herself  knew  her  work  to  be  full 
of  defects,  and  worried  more  than  any  one 
knew  over  the  lazy  Pedro,  who  would  not 
study,  over  restless  Faustino,  who  was  as  slip 
pery  as  wet  soap,  and  over  Teresa  Caraveo, 
who,  diligent  as  she  was,  seemed  utterly  im 
pervious  to  new  ideas.  Still  in  spite  of  these 
drawbacks,  the  work  interested  her  intensely, 
and  most  of  the  children  were  so  bright  and 
so  studious  that  encouraging  progress  had 
really  been  made  in  every  direction. 

She  had  good  cause  to  be  thankful  for 
her  mercies,  thought  the  little  maid  that 
sunny  afternoon,  for  news  from  home  con 
tinued  good,  —  the  latest  items  being  that 
Celia  had  just  decorated  an  entire  house  for 


156         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

a  child's  birthday  party,  and  that  the  new 
neighbor,  Mr.  Hunter,  had  rented  all  the 
barns  and  outbuildings  at  Glen  Ellen  for 
his  numerous  horses,  vehicles,  long-pedigreed 
cows,  and  fancy  fowls. 

He  is  really  very  kind  and  attentive,  [wrote 
Celia,]  comes  in  two  or  three  times  a  week  to 
play  to  mother  (he  has  a  genuine  Stradiva- 
rius  and  its  price  is  above  rubies),  and  he  's  alto 
gether  considered  to  be  a  great  addition  to 
Corona  society.  He  wants  mother  to  see  a  new 
physician,  a  friend  of  his  in  Los  Angeles,  and 
perhaps  she  will  consent.  He  is  very  much  in 
terested  in  you,  by  the  way,  and  sends  you  his 
admiring  regards. 

It  was  this  letter  of  Celia's  which  Mayy 
was  answering  this  afternoon,  and  as  her 
eyes  rested  on  Mr.  Hunter's  message,  she 
sniffed  rather  contemptuously  and  said 
something  quite  unjustifiable  about  intru 
sive,  meddlesome  people,  who  thought  they 
could  set  the  whole  world  right  because  they 
came  from  Boston.  It  was  pure  jealousy, 
it  must  be  confessed,  that  prompted  the 
sniff  and  the  undeserved  epithets,  for  the 
loving,  impetuous  girl  could  hardly  endure 
that  any  one  should  be  near  her  dear  ones, 


THE  COMING  OF  SPRING  157 

while  she  was  so  far  away,  and  she  gloried 
in  every  hardship  she  had  to  bear,  because 
a  pain  the  more  for  her  in  Mexico  meant 
one  the  less  for  the  tired  heart  in  California 
that  had  suffered  so  much. 

She  had  enough  grace,  however,  to  be 
ashamed  of  her  jealousy,  and  she  stopped 
a  moment  just  here  to  wrestle  with  the 
demon. 

"  You  wretch,"  she  cried  to  herself,  "  how 
can  you  be  so  mean  as  to  grudge  poor  aunt 
Ellen  and  Celia  any  help  and  comfort  they 
can  get.  It 's  little  enough  they  've  had 
lately,  and  you  ought  to  be  glad  there 's 
somebody  near  by,  who  is  interested  in  them. 
Pull  yourself  together  now  and  send  a  nice 
message  to  Mr.  Hunter  as  a  penance." 

The  quill  scratched  and  the  paper  rustled 
as  the  letter  began  again,  .  .  . 

Do  insist,  Celia,  upon  aunt  Ellen's  seeing  the 
Los  Angeles  doctor  at  once. .  She  '11  put  it  off, 
I  know,  on  account  of  the  expense,  but  I  met 
the  egg-merchant  to-day  and  he  says  he  's  going 
up  to  Tontin  Friday,  and  will  take  some  money 
for  me.  I  can  send  thirty  dollars  as  well  as  not, 
though  all  the  children  haven't  paid  for  last 
month  yet,  for  I  don't  need  to  spend  a  penny 
here. 


158         UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

Is  n't  it  dreadful  there  is  such  a  loss  on  chan 
ging  Mexican  into  United  States  money?  The 
first  time  I  sent  any,  and  the  egg-merchant  told 
me  when  he  came  back  that  I  'd  lost  ten  dollars 
out  of  my  precious  hundred,  I  just  went  away 
and  cried,  for  I  knew  there  would  n't  be  enough 
then  to  pay  Mr.  Gardiner  what  we  had  to  borrow 
for  my  journey.  I  never  realized  before  that 
the  shakiness  of  a  government  had  anything  to 
do  with  the  value  of  money,  though  I  s'pose  I 
must  have  learned  something  about  it  at  school. 
I  hope  there  '11  be  peace,  on  that  account  at  least, 
while  I  'm  teaching  here. 

Oh,  that  reminds  me,  Celia,  —  and  I  'm  sure  I 
don't  know  why,  —  that  I  had  the  most  charm 
ing  serenade  last  night  and  one  the  week  before. 
I  suppose  they  were  for  me,  because  the  Alta- 
mirano  house  is  next  door  on  one  side,  an  old 
widower's  on  the  other,  and  across  the  way  lives 
a  fat  washerwoman  with  five  small  children. 
That  narrows  the  thing  down,  you  see,  so  you 
need  n't  accuse  me  of  conceit. 

Well,  I  '11  tell  you  privately,  and  you  need  n't 
read  this  part  to  auntie,  I  'd  been  just  a  little 
weenty  bit  homesick  all  day  and  had  given 
Lucina  her  special  arithmetic  lesson  and  gone  to 
bed  early.  I  did  n't  sleep  very  well  and  woke 
up  by  and  by,  and  lay  there  staring  through  my 
iron  gratings,  when  I  heard  a  few  chords  from  a 


THE  COMING  OF  SPRING 


159 


harp  and  guitar  dropped  into  the  stillness,  and 
then  a  man  began  singing,  "  Buenas  noches, 
buenas  noches,  dueiia  amada." 

I  've  scratched  down  the  words  and  notes  here, 
and  perhaps  you  'd  like  to  try  it. 


1.  Bue    -    nas 

2.  Yo  te 


no    -    ches,       bue    -    nas 
ju     -     ro,          yo  te 


vo- 

—        -1 

*—  j          I 

if?*    J     J 

3     - 

1 

^ 

saz                • 

J 

.5?  •     J 

J     1 

tJ                                                             v  7          9 
no  -ches  due   -    fia      a    -  ma  -   da! 
ju  -    ro     que       te  a   -  do        -        ro, 

9 
Yo      te 
Y      me 

-1 — I- 


ven-  go,     yo      te      ven  -   go,         a       vi      -      si    - 
mue  -  ro,      y      me    niue  -  ro         por     tus          o 


tar,       No   me   pue  -  do,    no    me   pue  -  do       so    -  se- 
jos,        Sf,     el      al  -  ma,  si,     el      al  -  ma     ten  -  go 


gar,    ...  Si      no  es  -  tan  -  do,       si     no  es  • 

tris      -     te,  Des  -  de  el     pun  -  to,     des  -  de  el 


160         UNDER  THE  CACTUS   FLAG 

F=£=l= 


. 


tan  -  <lo   jun-to     a         ti. 
pun  -  to       quo      te        vi. 


_^__0_ 

Bue  -  nas 

Bue  -  nas 


no  -  ches,  bue  -  nas       no  -  ches,due  -  fia    a      -    ina 


EjgE 
•        '  • 


da,       Y         a  -  cuer-da,       y       a  -  cuer-da  -  te 


de    . 


ml  !     Bue  -  nas     no  -  ches,  bue  -  nas 


no  -  cues    due  -    fia    a-ma     -     da,          Y  a  - 


cuer  -  da,     y      a  -  cuer  -  da  -  te     de     mi  !  Y      a  - 

cuer-da       y       a  -  cuer- da    -  te       de      mi. 


Oh,    it  was  sweet,  but  I  did  n't  dare  get  up 
and  look  out,  for  both  my  upper  shutters  were 


THE   COMING   OF   SPRING  161 

open  and  I  'd  have  been  seen.  Maybe  't  was 
for  the  \vash-lady  after  all.  I  shall  never  know, 
probably,  but  I  kind  o'  sort  o'  think  it  was  for 
me. 

Don  Emilio  says,  by  the  way,  that  my  Spanish 
is  improving  wonderfully,  and  that  I  do  him 
great  credit,  and  I  'm  forced  to  believe  him,  for  I 
never  knew  anybody  so  critical  in  my  life,  nor 
so  frank  in  speaking  his  mind. 

You  ask  about  our  daily  fare.  Well,  it 's  sim 
ple  and  lacks  that  variety  that  used  to  distinguish 
the  Glen  Ellen  table  when  I  catered  for  it,  but  it 
seems  to  agree  with  me.  Breakfast  is  broiled 
beef  or  mutton,  —  queer,  long,  misshapen  pieces, 
for  they  sell  it  by  the  yard  here,  —  f rijoles,  bread, 
and  coffee.  There  's  no  butter,  you  know,  they 
don't  make  it  in  Ceritas. 

Luncheon  is  stewed  quinces,  and  bread  and 
milk,  and  dinner  is  broiled  meat  again,  beans, 
bread  or  tortillas  and  sometimes  potatoes,  on 
very  great  occasions. 

This  menu  is  for  every  day,  remember,  and 
always,  for  there  's  nothing  else  to  be  had,  though 
sometimes,  "  just  for  a  change,"  as  aunt  Easter 
used  to  say,  we  have  meat  and  beans  instead  of 
beans  and  meat. 

Yes,  the  sun  is  already  getting  very  hot,  and 
Vicente  has  given  me  one  of  his  broad-brimmed 
straw  hats  to  wear  to  school.  I  've  wound  that 


162          UNDER  THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

red  Japanese  silk  scarf  of  yours  around  it,  and 
it  makes  me  look  either  like  a  crazy  Jane,  or  an 
opera  singer,  I  can't  decide  which.  I  've  had 
my  gray  delaine  school-dress  washed,  and  it 's 
nice  and  clean  now,  though  of  a  length  better 
adapted  to  mountain  climbing  than  to  the  lecture 
platform. 

Oh,  —  you  know  I  told  you  that  Sefior  Alta- 
mirano  was  teaching  me  to  play  the  guitar,  and 
he  has  just  insisted  on  giving  me  his  mother's. 
It 's  a  perfect  beauty,  and  I  did  n't  think  I  ought 
to  accept  it,  but  he  says  it  is  never  touched,  and 
I'm  doing  him  a  chanty  in  taking  care  of  it. 
I  've  learned  accompaniments  in  one  key  already, 
and  you  can't  think  what  a  comfort  it  is  !  The 
Don  is  very  kind  to  me  when  he's  at  home, 
though  I  can't  help  thinking  of  my  first  name 
for  him  —  the  Knight  of  the  Rueful  Counte 
nance  —  whenever  I  see  him,  for  he  always  looks 
as  if  something  was  "  preying  on  his  damask 
cheek." 


I  had  to  leave  off  here  and  go  in  to  dinner, 
and  the  children  want  me  now,  so  good-night, 
dear,  precious,  darling  princess.  A  thousand 
loves  to  the  house-mother,  and,  see,  —  here  's  a 
round  kiss  for  each  one  of  you  from  your  adoring 

MAKIQUITA. 


THE  COMING  OF  SPRING  163 

P.  S.  Return  my  regards  to  Mr.  Hunter  in 
place  of  his  own,  and  thank  him  for  being  so 
good  to  you. 

"  Praised  be  the  saints,  it  is  finished  at 
last,  Mees  Meh-ree,"  sighed  Vicente  from 
his  perch  on  the  gate,  as  the  closely  writ 
ten  sheets  were  tucked  into  their  envelope. 
"  Now  will  you  tell  us  about  that  so  sim- 
patica  princess  that  made  her  husband  out 
of  almonds  and  sugar  ?  " 

"  Ah,  yes,  Mees  Meh-ree  of  my  heart !  " 
pleaded  Faustino,  appearing  unexpectedly 
at  her  elbow. 

"  Oh,  is  Mees  Mariquita  going  to  tell 
a  story?"  cried  Lucina,  running  breathless 
across  the  courtyard.  "  Come  in,  Carmen- 
icita  —  what  are  you  hiding  there  in  the 
zaguan  for?" 

Carmen  glided  softly  in,  her  blue  reboso 
wrapped  tightly  about  her  head,  and  took  her 
accustomed  position  at  the  feet  of  the  loved 
one.  She  always  moved  like  a  disembodied 
spirit,  this  dusky  little  maiden,  and  Mary 
was  often  startled  when  she  looked  up  from 
her  work  at  home,  to  find  the  child  quietly 
seated  on  the  floor,  her  soft  brown  eyes 
patiently  fixed  on  the  beloved  teacher. 


164         UNDER  THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

The  story-teller  pulled  her  white  shawl 
about  her  shoulders,  ran  her  fingers  through 
her  curly  locks  as  she  wondered  what  would 
be  a  good  Spanish  equivalent  for  "  Once 
upon  a  time,"  and  began  the  marvelous  his 
tory  of  "  Perlino." 

The  too  -  confiding  hero  had  just  been 
dragged  from  the  clutches  of  the  Lady  of 
the  Chinking  Guineas,  and,  safely  mounted 
behind  his  beloved,  was  clattering  over  the 
drawbridge  of  the  enchanted  castle,  when 
deep  voices  were  heard  in  the  courtyard  and 
two  gentlemen  leaned  on  the  orchard  gate. 

"  What  an  adoring  audience  you  have, 
Miss  Mary !  "  laughed  Mr.  Vazquez.  "  Ay, 
Raimundo,"  with  a  mischievous  glance  at 
his  friend,  "  Si  hay  nieve  en  el  llano,  como 
estara  en  la  sierra,  eh  ?  " 1 

Seiior  Altamirano  made  no  answer  to  this 
embarrassing  application  of  a  popular  say 
ing,  but  opening  the  gate  as  if  it  were  un 
heard,  asked  in  his  courtly  way,  — 

"  Will  the  seiiorita  be  pleased  to  have  a 
music  lesson  this  evening  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes,  sir,  thank  you,  with  great  plea 
sure.  Vicente,  will  you  get  the  guitar,  and 

1  If  there  's  snow  on  the  plain,  how  must  it  be  on  the 
mountain  ? 


THE   COMING   OF  SPRING  165 

be  very  careful  with  it,  querido,  as  you  cross 
the  courtyard.  No,  no,  Faustino,"  with  a 
detaining  hand,  "  you  're  too  little." 

The  lad  brought  the  instrument  quickly, 
stepping  cautiously  over  the  stones  like  a  cat 
afraid  of  wetting  her  feet,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Vazquez  and  the  children  strolled  off  down 
the  garden  paths. 

It  was  a  beautiful  guitar,  indeed,  and 
Mary  had  sent  to  Tontin  for  ribbons  to 
decorate  it,  choosing  red,  white,  and  green, 
the  Mexican  colors,  in  compliment  to  the 
donor.  She  had  been  writing  to  Jack  Mar 
tin  the  day  she  received  it,  acknowledging 
some  of  the  many  books  which  arrived  with 
unfailing  regularity,  and  had  commissioned 
him  to  select  the  ribbons  for  her  the  next 
time  he  went  to  town.  They  had  come  after 
a  little  delay,  and  fastened  to  one  of  them 
was  a  finely  wrought  silver  eagle  standing 
on  a  cactus-stalk,  the  emblem  that  always 
appears  on  the  Mexican  flag.  "  Like  his  ex 
travagance,"  thought  Mary  ;  "  he  must  have 
ordered  it  in  San  Francisco.  They  never 
would  have  such  a  thing  in  Tontin." 

"  Did  I  ever  tell  you  where  the  guitar 
was  made,  senorita?  "  asked  Don  Raimundo, 
as  he  tested  the  strings  and  turned  the  ivory 
pegs. 


166         UNDER  THE  CACTUS   FLAG 

"  No,  sir  ;  will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  do 
so?"  -She  spoke  politely,  very  politely 
always,  to  the  K.  of  II.  C. 

"  My  mother  was  native  of  a  village  near 
Guadalajara,  as  I  think  I  told  you,  and  close 
to  her  birthplace  had  always  lived  a  tribe 
of  Indians,  peaceful,  industrious  people,  all 
Christians.  The  chief  was  a  great  musician 
in  his  own  wild  way,  and  an  adept  at  making 
guitars.  You  had  only  to  tell  him  about 
what  you  were  willing  to  pay  for  an  instru 
ment  and  he  would  make  it  exactly  as  de 
sired.  His  guitars  were  noted  all  over  the 
country  for  their  beautiful  tone,  and  my 
mother  said  he  once  told  her  that  he  always 
selected  the  wood  from  the  trees  where  the 
mocking-birds  sang." 

"  A  pretty  idea,"  said  Mary,  idly  watch 
ing  the  brown  fingers  wander  over  the 
strings. 

"  The  Indians  have  many  poetic  thoughts, 
senorita. 

"  He  had  always  admired  my  mother's 
voice,  it  seemed,  —  she  sang  like  a  wood- 
dove  calling  in  the  spring,  —  and  on  one  of 
her  saints'  days  he  brought  her  this  guitar. 

"  4  Take  it,  Margarita,'  he  said,  t  it  is  for 
thee ;  it  is  made  of  wood  where  the  birds 


THE  COMING  OF  SPRING  167 

have  nested,  and  the  elders  of  the  tribe 
have  blessed  it.  It  will  bring  happiness  to 
every  woman's  hand  that  touches  it.'  "  .  .  . 
Here  came  a  few  soft  chords  on  the  vibrant 
strings.  ..."  May  his  prophecy  be  a  true 
one  for  you,  too,  senorita  !  My  blessed  mo 
ther  was  a  happy  woman  while  she  lived." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Mary  shyly,  for 
she  was  touched  by  the  story  and  scarcely 
knew  what  to  say  in  comment. 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment,  and  then 
Senor  Altamirano  broke  from  his  reverie 
with  a  start. 

"  Shall  I  teach  you  a  new  accompaniment 
to-night  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  If  you  please,"  said  Mary,  and  she  was 
soon  deep  in  the  chords  of  D  Major,  and 
complaining  about  the  leaps  and  bounds 
and  strained  position  of  fingers  required  to 
execute  it  properly. 

The  lesson  was  over,  and  she  was  finding 
an  accompaniment  to  "  La  Chinaca  "  1  under 
Eaimundo's  direction,  when  the  family  re 
turned. 

"  Sing  it  louder,  Mary,"  said  Mrs.  Vaz- 

1  A  Mexican  patriotic  song  composed  at  the  time  when 
effort  was  being  made  to  establish  Maximilian  as  Em 
peror  of  Mexico. 


168         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

quez  from  the  door,  "  and  we  '11  join  in  the 
refrain." 

"  Yo  soy  una  ehinaquita,"  warbled  Mary 
gayly  in  answer,  surrendering  the  accompani 
ment  to  Raimundo,  and  executing  her  solos 
with  so  much  patriotic  fervor  that  the  boys 
were  electrified,  and  danced  and  stamped 
and  shouted  "  Viva ! "  as  each  chorus  was 
ended. 

"  Come  in,  Raimundo,  and  sing  to  us," 
called  Mr.  Vazquez,  appearing  in  the  door 
way  with  his  cigarrito  ;  "  it 's  too  t  cold  in 
the  orchard  for  Miss  Annesley  any  longer, 
and  you  have  n't  sung  here  for  months." 

"  Oh,  I  'm  so  sorry,  Senor  Altamirano," 
cried  Mary.  "  I  never  heard  you  sing  and 
I  'd  like  to  so  much,  but  I  have  some  school 
work  to  do  for  to-morrow  and  I  shall  have 
to  set  about  it  this  minute.  I  had  no  idea 
it  was  so  late.  Good-night,  Mrs.  Vazquez, 
dear.  Buenas  noches,  everybody  !  " 

"  Buenas  noches !  "  came  in  chorus  from 
house  and  garden,  and,  portfolio  and  flowers 
in  hand,  Mary  tripped  across  the  stones  to 
her  room. 

The  singing  began  as  she  opened  her  door, 
and  a  sweet  baritone  voice  floated  in  with 
the  odor  of  the  orange  blossoms. 


THE  COMING  OF  SPRING  169 

"  H-m,  h-m,"  said  the  little  maid  reflec 
tively,  as  she  lighted  her  lantern  and  took 
up  her  exercise-books.  "  There  's  something 
very  familiar  about  that.  Never  heard  Don 
Raimundo  sing,  did  I?  Well,  if  his  was 
not  the  voice  of  that  serenader  the  other 
night,  he  must  have  a  twin  brother." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

RUMORS   OF   WAR. 

"  LUCINA  !  "  called  Mary  one  night  in  late 
March,  sitting  up  in  bed,  her  teeth  chatter 
ing  with  fright,  —  "  Lu-ci-na !  what  is  that 
dreadful  noise  ?  " 

Sleepy  sighs  from  the  other  side  of  the 
curtain,  and  confused  murmur  of  "  Borra- 
chos." 

"  No,  it  is  n't  drunkards.  Lucina,  wake 
up ! !  It 's  been  going  on  for  a  long  time. 
.  .  .  Hark,  there  's  a  pistol  shot !  Oh  dear, 
what  can  be  the  matter  ?  " 

Bang,  bang,  crash,  bang,  went  a  fusillade 
of  shots,  followed  by  loud  cries  and  shouts, 
and  in  the  confusion  a  white  figure  darted 
under  the  curtain  and  Lucina  flew  into 
Mary's  cot. 

"  Oh,  Mees  Meh-ree,"  she  shivered,  "  per 
haps  it 's  another  revolution,  —  you  know 
what  my  godfather  said  last  night.  .  .  . 
Ay!  de  mi!  blessed  be  the  saints,  what 
is  that  ?  " 


RUMORS  OF  WAR  171 

There  was  a  clatter  of  hoofs  on  the  stone- 
paved  street,  and  with  fierce  yells  of  "  Viva  " 
somebody,  a  body  of  mounted  men  galloped 
past. 

"  We  shall  all  be  murdered  in  our  beds," 
trembled  Lucina,  beginning  to  cry. 

"Nonsense,"  said  Mary,  cooling  a  little 
as  the  other's  excitement  increased.  "  We 
have  nothing  to  do  with  either  side,  and  what 
would  they  get  by  killing  us  ?  It 's  a  little 
quieter  now.  Oh,  see  that  red  light !  There 
must  be  a  bonfire  in  the  plaza.  How  can 
Don  Emilio  sleep  through  all  this?  " 

"  Perhaps  he  is  n't  asleep,"  whispered  Lu 
cina,  her  lips  close  to  Mary's  ear  ;  "  but  it 
would  not  be  good  for  him  to  put  his  head 
into  the  street,  for  they'd  arrest  him  in  a 
minute  and  drag  him  off  to  jail." 

"What  for?"  in  wide-eyed  wonder. 

"  There  is  n't  any  '  what  for  '  in  revolu 
tions,  so  my  father  used  to  say.  They  know 
he  has  money,  and  no  matter  which  side  he 
belonged  to,  they 'd  find  some  reason  to  throw 
him  into  jail  and  make  him  pay  to  get  out. 
.  .  .  Do  you  dare  to  run  to  the  window  and 
see  what  they  're  doing  ?  " 

"  Dare  ?  not  I !  A  stray  shot  might  come 
through  the  gratings.  A — h  !  is  somebody 
being  killed?" 


172         UNDER  THE  CACTUS   FLAG 

Lucina  clutched  Mary's  shoulder,  and  both 
girls  buried  their  heads  under  the  bedclothes, 
where  they  lay  shivering  as  another  long- 
drawn  wail  cleft  the  darkness. 

"  Oh,  it 's  only  Raimundo's  dog,"  laughed 
Lucina  hysterically,  under  the  weight  of 
blankets.  "  Don't  you  know  he  went  to  Ba- 
canuchi  yesterday  and  left  Bravo  behind? 
The  poor  beast  is  lonely  and  frightened,  I 
suppose." 

Another  horseman  clattered  by  at  this 
moment,  but  the  red  light  soon  faded,  the 
shouts  died  away,  and  silence  reigned  again 
in  Ceritas.  The  girls  long  lay  clasped  in 
each  other's  arms,  straining  their  ears  into 
the  darkness,  but  at  last  their  tense  grasp 
relaxed,  and  they  fell  into  quiet  slumber. 

The  morning  broke  serene  and  sunny,  the 
usual  cheerful  noises  were  heard,  and  the 
baker's  boy,  as  he  passed  on  his  morning 
rounds  with  his  shallow  basket  of  loaves 
on  his  head,  appeared  so  perfectly  gay  and 
unconcerned  that  Mary  concluded  she  must 
have  had  an  unusually  vivid  nightmare.  It 
was  strange,  certainly,  that  Lucina's  dreams 
should  have  exactly  paralleled  hers,  but  they 
both  ran  to  the  breakfast-room  more  than 
half  prepared  to  believe  that  there  had  really 
been  no  alarm  in  the  night. 


RUMORS  OF  WAR  173 

Mr.  Vazquez  was  already  seated,  and  with 
a  grave  face  was  hurrying  through  his  meal. 

"  I  hope  you  were  n't  frightened  last  night, 
girls,"  he  said,  looking  up  as  they  came  in. 
"  Do  you  know,  neither  Barbara  nor  I  knew 
a  word  of  the  matter  till  the  cook  came  this 
morning.  Our  window  looks  on  the  court 
yard,  you  see,  and  we  're  both  sound  sleepers. 
Well,  it 's  a  bad  business,  a  bad  business  !  " 

"What  has  happened,  Don  Emilio?" 
"  What  has  happened,  nino  ? "  cried  the 
girls  in  a  breath. 

"  It 's  the  end  of  the  matter  I  partly  ex 
plained  to  you  the  other  day,  Miss  Annesley. 
Governor  Salazar  has  made  himself  very 
unpopular  by  refusing  to  sanction  several 
measures  this  session  of  the  legislature.  I 
don't  know  the  merits  of  the  various  bills, 
—  they  were  passed  over  his  head  after 
wards,  —  but  I  dare  say  he  was  right.  He  's 
a  sensible,  straightforward  man,  I  believe. 
His  lieutenant-governor,  Davila,  is  a  dema 
gogue,  —  a  perfectly  unprincipled  fellow,  — 
and  I  've  heard  for  some  time  that  he 's  been 
working  up  the  popular  feeling  against  Sa 
lazar  so  as  to  oust  him  from  his  place." 

"  And  get  it  for  himself,"  commented 
Mrs.  Vazquez,  who  had  just  entered. 


174         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

"  Naturally  ;  and  there  are  enough  thieves 
and  highway  robbers  and  crack-brained  fools 
in  this  country,  or  any  other  for  that  mat 
ter,  to  back  up  any  man  who  '11  give  them  a 
glass  of  mescal,  a  horse  and  a  gun,  and  let 
them  play  soldier." 

"  But  what  happened  last  night  ?  "  asked 
Mary  breathlessly. 

"  Oh,  it 's  the  old  story,"  bitterly  ;  "  we  're 
in  the  hands  of  the  enemy  this  morning. 
A  body  of  Davila's  men  rode  in  last  night 
and  took  the  town.  There  were  n't  more  than 
fifty  of  them  all  told,  but  it  was  the  dead  of 
night  and  there  was  next  to  no  resistance. 

"  There  was  a  brief  skirmish,  I  understand, 
and  a  few  shots  exchanged ;  then  they  took 
possession  of  the  jail  and  are  holding  the 
plaza.  One  or  two  men  were  wounded,  and 
one  poor  fellow  killed,  —  one  of  the  jail 
guards,  a  good  citizen,  I  believe,  and  a  de 
cent  hard-working  man." 

"  And  is  it  all  over  now?  "  asked  Lucina, 
paling  a  trifle  at  the  horrors  of  war. 

"  Over,  child !  It 's  just  begun  ;  the  whole 
purpose  of  this  comic  opera  revolution  has 
to  be  worked  out  yet.  It  won't  be  4  over,' 
as  you  say,  till  they  've  levied  a  good  fat 
tax  for  expenses  of  war,  on  every  man  in 


RUMORS   OF  WAR  175 

town  that 's  got  a  real  in  his  pocket.  But 
don't  worry  a  minute,  any  of  you,"  with 
a  protecting  touch  on  his  wife's  shoulder. 
"  We  've  nothing  to  fear  unless  it 's  rob 
bery.  Just  keep  close  two  or  three  days, 
and  our  revolutionists  will  march  away  when 
their  pockets  are  filled." 

He  was  turning  to  leave  the  room  when 
a  series  of  ear-piercing  screams  was  heard 
outside.  Mary,  whose  nerves  had  not  yet 
recovered  from  the  night's  excitement, 
dropped  her  cup  with  a  crash  on  the  bricks, 
and  Lucina  half  rose  from  her  chair  and 
leaned,  trembling,  against  the  table. 

Don  Emilio  strode  to  the  door  and  threw 
it  open.  "  What  is  the  matter  out  there  ?  " 
he  called  in  a  commanding  voice. 

Joaquin,  the  horse-boy,  hurried  through 
the  orchard  gate  in  answer,  with  Faustino 
screaming  and  kicking  in  his  arms. 

"It  is  this  ill -taught  one,  your  honor," 
he  panted,  breathless  with  his  exertions. 
"  He  said  he  should  go  and  see  the  soldiers, 
and  when  I  told  him  your  honor  had  said 
no  one  was  to  leave  the  courtyard,  he  ran 
into  the  orchard  and  was  half  over  the  wall 
when  I  pulled  him  back  by  the  shameless 
foot." 


176         UNDER  TUP]   CACTUS  FLAG 

"  You  did  right,  Joaquin.  Faustino," 
sternly,  "  go  to  the  dining-room  and  sit 
there  till  I  call  you.  .  .  .  Certainly  not, 
Vicente,  you  are  not  to  ring  the  bell,  nor  to 
go  out  without  permission.  .  .  .  We  can 
have  no  school  for  a  day  or  two,  Miss  Aunes- 
ley,  till  matters  are  quiet." 

With  a  hasty  kiss  and  caress  for  his  wife 
and  an  encouraging  tap  on  Lucina's  pale 
cheek,  Don  Emilio  hurried  off,  ordering 
Joaquin  to  lock  and  bar  the  entrance-door 
behind  him  and  to  keep  all  the  shutters 
closed  on  the  street. 

The  two  girls  and  Mrs.  Vazquez  stood  in 
the  courtyard  regarding  each'  other  with 
blank  faces,  and  Mary's  hair  really  seemed 
to  curl  more  tightly  in  her  agitation.  The 
fat  cook,  who  had  prudently  brought  her 
three  impish  boys  with  her  that  morning, 
stood  in  the  kitchen  door,  the  breakfast 
dishes  round  her  on  the  floor  and  her  dusky 
brood  hanging  to  her  skirts.  Her  reboso 
was  thrown  back,  showing  her  brown  neck 
and  arms  and  her  loose  \vhite  chemise,  and 
as  she  rebraided  one  of  her  long  black 
plaits,  she  fairly  palpitated  with  eagerness 
to  seize  Joaquin  as  he  came  in  and  discuss 
the  whole  matter  with  him. 


RUMORS   OF   WAR  177 

"  Well,  we  're  provisioned  for  a  siege, 
children,  in  case  worse  comes  to  worst,"  said 
Mrs.  Vazquez,  laughing  nervously.  "  With 
the  beans  in  your  room,  Mary,  the  quinces 
and  the  barrel  of  flour,  the  well  and  the  cow, 
we  can  hold  out  almost  as  long  as  they  did 
at  Sebastopol.  There  's  really  not  a  bit  of 
danger  for  us,  Emilio  says,  but  he  's  rather 
anxious  about  Raimundo.  He 's  gone  out 
to  see  if  he  can  hear  anything  of  him  now. 
I  wanted  him  to  stay  here  and  send  Joaquin, 
but  he  says  it 's  no  use  hiding  like  a  rat  in 
a  hole.  Davila's  men  want  nothing  of  him 
but  money  ;  and  they  '11  take  that  any  way." 

"Why,  is  Don  Raimundo  in  danger?" 
cried  Mary,  moving  a  little  nearer. 

"  He 's  a  member  of  the  legislature,  you 
know,  and  has  defended  the  governor's  pol 
icy.  Emilio  has  been  begging  him  for  days 
to  go  to  Tontin  for  a  while,  but  he  seemed 
absolutely  determined  to  stay  here.  Reports 
were  so  ugly  yesterday*  that  he  did  consent 
to  go  up  to  Bacanuchi,  and  your  uncle,  Lu- 
cina,  is  to  keep  some  of  the  Indians  on  the 
watch  day  and  night,  in  case  the  revolution 
ists  take  a  fancy  to  follow  him." 

"  Would  they  kill  him  if  they  caught 
him  ?  "  whispered  Mary,  with  dilating  eyes. 


178         UNDER  THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

"  Kill  the  goose  that  lays  the  golden  eggs  ? 
No  fear  of  that,  child,  though  they  'd  drag 
him  round  the  country  and  make  him  en 
dure  all  kinds  of  hardships ;  and  of  course 
such  fellows  are  a  wild  lot  and  hot-headed, 
—  they  have  been  known  before  this  to  shoot 
a  prisoner  down  if  they  had  any  trouble  with 
him." 

"  Poor  Don  Raimundo ! "  exclaimed 
Mary,  "  is  n't  it  dreadful  ?  " 

"  Poor  mama,"  sighed  Lucina.  "  What 
fear  she  will  have  at  Bacanuchi  without  me ! " 

"  Without  you,  indeed !  "  cried  Vicente, 
who  had  been  listening  to  the  conversation 
with  open  mouth.  "  What  could  a  girl  do  ? 
If  I  were  there,  I  'd  defend  mania  and 
Raimundo  too." 

"  It  is  n't  Raimundo's  life  we  are  anxious 
about,"  said  Mrs.  Vazquez,  "  or  at  least 
that 's  only  incidental.  Emilio  does  n't 
want  him  to  be  taken  prisoner  and  have  to 
pay  a  big  ransom  jifst  now  when  he  's  de 
veloping  his  mine  and  needs  all  his  money. 
But  we  sha'n't  gain  anything  by  standing 
here  all  day,  girls.  I  'm  going  to  set  Tino 
free,  Mariquita,  —  Mr.  Vazquez  must  have 
forgotten  him. 

"  Remember  not  to  leave  the  courtyard, 


RUMORS   OF  WAR  179 

Vicente  !  .  .  .  Dona  Juana,"  calling  from  the 
dining-room  door,  "  the  danger  will  not  be 
increased  if  you  wash  the  dishes,  I  think." 

Mary  went  to  her  room  feeling  decidedly 
nervous.  What  had  Don  Emilio  said  about 
the  danger  of  robbery?  Would  it  not  be 
best  to  hide  her  trinkets  and  the  twenty-five 
silver  dollars  she  had  saved  for  the  next 
trip  of  the  egg-merchant  ? 

Deep  down  in  her  heart,  too,  was  stirring 
another  fear  that  the  present  conditions 
could  not  but  increase  in  strength,  for  only 
the  week  before,  Mrs.  Vazquez  had  told  her 
that  her  husband  might  possibly  have  to 
leave  Ceritas  for  two  or  three  months,  and 
that  if  his  trip  were  to  be  so  long  a  one  she 
could  not  think  of  letting  him  go  alone. 

Mary  sank  into  a  chair  now  with  a  half- 
sob.  "  Oh,  for  the  peace  of  my  own  country 
and  the  shelter  of  Glen  Ellen,"  she  sighed. 
"  How  far,  how  far  away  I  am  !  Oh,  if 
'  Miss  Barbara '  goes,  what  will  become  of 
me?" 

Tears  stole  from  under  her  lashes  and  she 
bowed  her  head  on  the  table-cover  aunt 
Ellen  had  embroidered,  and  prayed  for  cour 
age  and  for  strength  to  bear  whatever  ills 
might  come  to  her. 


180         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

The  prayer  was  answered,  too,  in  the 
silence  that  followed,  as  all  sincere  petitions 
for  help  and  comfort  from  above  must  ever 
be,  and  as  Lucina's  step  was  heard  at  the 
door,  she  dried  her  eyes  and  was  her  own 
bright  self  again. 

"  Lucina,"  she  whispered,  "  Does  n't  this 
room  with  the  shutters  closed  seem  like  a 
funeral?  Come  in  here.  You  know  what 
your  godfather  said  about  robbery.  Don't 
you  think  we  ought  to  hide  our  money  and 
our  jewelry  ?  " 

Lucina  seemed  decidedly  exhilarated  by 
the  idea.  "  Oh,  yes,"  she  whispered  back. 
"  Let 's  pry  up  one  of  the  bricks  under  your 
bed,  and  make  a  hole  and  drop  everything 
in  there.  It  will  be  like  the  buried  treasure 
in  your  pirate  story.  I  '11  get  a  big  knife 
and  a  chisel,  but  we  must  be  as  still  as  mice, 
or  the  boys  will  hear,  and  tell  everything." 

She  stole  out  with  the  step  of  a  conspira 
tor,  and  returning  with  the  tools,  locked  and 
barred  the  door  behind  her. 

"  We  must  hurry,  Mees  Meh-ree,"  she 
said  softly,  her  eyes  shining  with  excitement. 
"  The  cook  seems  afraid  I  'm  going  to  give 
this  knife  to  the  revolutionists,  and  Vicente 
is  determined  to  know  what  I  want  with  the 


. 


RUMORS   OF  WAR  181 

chisel.  Oh,  you  've  moved  your  cot  and  got 
everything  ready,  have  n't  you  ?  A — y !  "  as 
the  chisel  dropped  with  a  clang  on  the 
bricks. 

"  Oh,  do  be  careful,  Lucina,"  begged 
Mary,  in  an  agony  of  nervousness,  her  pre 
cious  bag  of  money  in  her  hand.  "  There 
may  be  somebody  looking  through  the  chinks 
of  the  shutters  now." 

"  The  saints  preserve  us  !  "  murmured  Lu 
cina,  with  an  anxious  glance  behind  her. 
"  Perhaps  you  'd  better  dig,  too,  and  we  '11 
finish  sooner." 

The  two  girls  worked  so  well  that  the 
brick  was  soon  raised,  some  earth  scooped 
out,  and  the  treasure,  a  high-sounding  name 
for  the  modest  collection,  hidden  safely  away. 
Lucina,  having  little  or  nothing  at  stake, 
regarded  the  whole  affair  as  a  delightful 
game,  pleasantly  spiced  with  danger ;  but 
Mary,  who  knew  what  it  was  to  earn  and 
to  need  money,  set  her  teeth  as  she  pushed 
back  her  cot,  and  inwardly  vowed  that  no 
revolutionists,  did  they  come  a  hundred 
strong,  should  get  those  silver  dollars  save 
over  her  dead  body. 

A  scanty  luncheon,  which  the  cook  had 
evidently  doled  out  in  anticipation  of  a 


182         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

siege,  was  hardly  over  when  Mr.  Vazquez 
returned. 

"No,"  he  said,  in  answer  to  his  wife's 
quick  question,  "  there  's  no  news  from  Rai- 
mundo,  but  this  tempest  is  in  a  rather 
larger  teapot  than  I  expected.  Fifty  more 
of  those  fellows  came  in  this  morning  from 
Sayula  to  reinforce  those  already  here,  and 
a  band  from  Isleta,  under  Davila's  son  him 
self,  is  reported  on  the  way.  Yes,  of  course 
it  would  be  folly  to  attempt  resistance,  Bar 
bara  ;  I  've  done  what  I  could  to  quiet  things 
down,  on  the  contrary. 

"  I  found  four  of  your  patrons  in  prison, 
Miss  Annesley,  and  lent  them  what  was  re 
quisite  to  get  out.  Cavazos,  little  Carmen's 
father,  wouldn't  pay,  nor  let  me  pay  for 
him,  and  swears  he  '11  stay  there  in  jail  till 
he  wears  his  guards  out. 

"  Lafleur,  up  at  the  mill,  has  raised  five 
dollars  a  barrel  on  his  flour,  I  hear,  since 
the  siege  began  last  night.  .  .  .  Ah,  you  're 
there,  Dona  Juana,"  as  ejaculations  from 
the  doorway  were  heard  at  this  news  ;  "  it 's 
lucky  we  have  n't  to  buy  just  now,  eh  ?  " 

The  strange,  excited  afternoon,  peaceful 
and  flowery  in  the  orchard,  dark  and  mys 
terious  in  the  close-shuttered  rooms,  had 


RUMORS  OF  WAR  183 

worn  away  to  dusk  when  heavy  blows,  like 
the  knocking  in  "  Macbeth,"  were  heard  on 
the  entrance  door. 

Joaquin,  evidently  thinking  that  his  last 
hour  had  come,  went,  shivering,  to  open,  and 
through  the  zaguan  dashed  Lucina's  uncle 
Andres,  pale,  disheveled,  white  with  dust, 
his  horse  dripping  with  sweat  and  flecked 
with  foam. 

He  flung  himself  from  the  saddle,  but  as 
family  and  servants  flew  to  his  side,  he 
waved  them  away,  putting  his  hands  to  his 
throat  and  calling  for  water,  only  when  the 
gourd  was  emptied  to  the  last  drop,  gasping 
out,  "  Raimundo !  Taken !  Three  hundred 
dollars !  Two  hours  !  " 

"  Three  hundred  dollars'  ransom  !  "  cried 
Don  Emilio.    "  What  barefaced  robbery  !  " 
"Ay,    what     villains,     what     bandits!" 
groaned  the  cook,  and  Joaquin  shook  his  fist 
in  the  rear. 

"  And    they  '11    take   him   away   in   two 
hours,  Andres,  if  you  don't  bring  back  the 
money  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Vazquez  breathlessly. 
"  Si,  si,  Barbarita ;  hasten  !  " 
"  How  much  money  is  there  in  the  house, 
little  one?"  said  Don  Emilio,  turning  to  his 
wife. 


184         UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

"  I  '11  run  and  see.  There  can't  be  more 
than  thirty  dollars,  I  think." 

"  Raimundo  had  some  with  him,  we  had 
twenty  at  Bacanuchi,  and  they  promised  me 
enough  at  Cumuripa  as  I  came  down  to 
make  up  a  hundred,"  explained  Andres, 
who  had  regained  his  breath.  "  They  say 
they  '11  let  him  off  for  half  down  and  the 
rest  next  week." 

"  Oh,  do  take  my  money,  Mr.  Vazquez  !  " 
begged  Mary,  in  a  trembling  voice,  clasping 
her  hands  in  entreaty.  "  Poor  Raimundo  ! 
They  '11  take  him  away  before  Don  Andres 
gets  back." 

"  Not  they,"  said  Mr.  Vazquez  confi 
dently.  "  They  '11  wait  for  the  money,  the 
rascals,  if  they  wait  all  night.  No,  indeed, 
I  won't  take  your  savings,  child.  I  '11  bor 
row  what  I  want  in  town  here.  There  's 
no  such  haste.  Andres  always  gets  excited 
and  loses  his  head." 

While  Joaquin  was  saddling  a  fresh  horse, 
and  Mr.  Vazquez  scouring  the  town  for 
ready  money,  the  excited  messenger  told  his 
breathless  audience  the  story  of  the  attack 
on  the  ranch,  Raimundo's  capture  and  his 
interview  with  the  revolutionists.  The  tale 
was  recounted  in  so  dramatic  a  style,  with 


RUMORS   OF   WAR  185 

such  descriptive  gestures,  such  leaps  and 
bounds,  accented  by  the  jangling  spurs  at 
exciting  points,  such  imitation  of  voice  and 
action  of  the  contesting  parties,  such  sud 
den  exclamations,  torrents  of  Castilian,  and 
showers  of  sparks  shot  from  fiery  eyes,  that 
Mary,  with  her  cool  Anglo-Saxon  blood,  felt 
decidedly  embarrassed  in  spite  of  her  anx 
ious  interest,  and  wished  the  man  would  sit 
down  quietly  and  tell  his  story  like  a  Chris 
tian. 

As  he  galloped  off  at  last,  the  precious 
packet  of  money  hidden  in  his  boots,  she 
absolutely  gasped  with  fatigue,  and  turning 
to  Mrs.  Vazquez  sighed,  "  Dear  me !  what  a 
day !  I  feel  as  if  I  'd  been  living  in  a  dime 
novel.  Now,  Don  Raimundo  is  safe,  do 
let  's  go  under  the  orange -trees  and  rest, 
and  talk  it  all  over.  Come,  Lucina!  No 
thing  else  can  happen  to-night,  that 's  a 
comfort !  " 

Ah,  but  something  else  did  happen  before 
midnight  had  tolled  on  the  old  church-bell. 
Mary  had  felt  so  "  fidgety,"  as  she  expressed 
it,  on  going  to  her  room,  that,  secure  behind 
her  barred  shutters,  she  had  first  written  a 
long  letter  home,  detailing  all  that  had  hap 
pened,  and  then  had  turned  to  the  day's 


186         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

Bible  lesson,  hoping  to  find  some  words  that 
would  soothe  and  tranquilize  her. 

She  was  repeating  softly  to  herself,  "  I 
will  both  lay  me  down  in  peace,  and  sleep : 
for  thou,  Lord,  only  makest  me  dwell  in 
safety,"  when  there  came  a  tap  on  her  shut 
ters,  and  a  soft  voice  at  her  window  called, 
"Mariquita!" 

"  Why,"  thought  Mary,  with  a  start,  lay 
ing  down  her  Bible,  "  that  sounds  like  Rai- 
mundo.  What  can  he  be  doing  here?" 

"  Mariquita  !  "  came  the  suppressed  voice 
again. 

"  Is  it  you,  Seiior  Altamirano  ? "  ap 
proaching  the  window.  "  Oh,  is  it  safe  for 
you  to  be  here  ?  " 

"  Quite  safe,  senorita.  The  goose  is 
plucked  now,  you  know.  Can  you  open 
your  shutter  a  chink  so  that  they  may  not 
hear  me  in  the  street  ?  I  saw  your  light, 
and  am  come  to  say  farewell.  I  have  al 
ready  seen  Emilio  over  the  orchard  wall." 

"  Are  you  going  to  Tontin  ?  "  blowing  out 
her  lantern  and  throwing  open  one  of  the 
upper  shutters.  "  Ah,  it  is  really  you !  " 
as  the  tall  figure,  shrouded  in  its  sarape, 
appeared  outside  the  gratings.  "  I  know  I 


RUMORS   OF  WAR  187 

shall  perish  with  fear  if  you  stay  more  than 
a  minute.     Where  is  your  horse  ?  " 

"  I  tied  him  in  a  thicket  outside  the  town. 
I  go  at  once,  senorita.  I  am  honored  that 
you  think  of  my  safety.  I  hope  my  absence 
will  not  be  a  long  one,  and  that  to-day's 
little  affair  will  not  prejudice  you  against 
my  country. 

"Adios,  I  kiss  your  hand,  senorita  mia." 
44  Adios,  amigo  !  Vaya  con  Dios  !  "  l  called 
Mary  softly  into  the  darkness,  and    "  Que 
vaya  con  Dios !  "  she  murmured,  as  again 
she  closed  and  barred  the  shutters. 

1  Good-by,  friend.     May  God  go  with  you ! 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

MANY    SORROWS. 

THE  narrow  street  lay  half  in  vivid  sun 
shine,  half  in  the  shadow  of  the  high  brown 
adobe  wall  that  bordered  it  npon  one  side. 

On  the  other  grew  a  hedge  of  elderberry 
all  white  with  bloom,  and  in  and  out  and 
over  and  under  the  branches  climbed  the 
feathery,  starlike  flowers  of  the  Barba  de 
Viejo,1  while  through  the  white  screen  they 
made  gleamed  the  brilliant  crimson  bells  of 
the  pomegranates  in  the  field  beyond.  The 
trees  were  waving  green,  and  behind  the 
brown,  crumbling,  adobe  houses,  the  cactus 
fences  were  putting  forth  tiny  leaves  and 
long  spikes  of  vivid  scarlet  blossoms,  where 
red -winged  blackbirds  sat  singing  in  an 
ecstasy  of  springtide  joy. 

"How  without  manners  for  a  young  lady 
to  promenade  herself  alone  !  "  cried  a  portly, 
black-braided  dame  to  her  neighbor,  as  a 
small  figure,  in  a  broad  straw  hat  and  a 
scanty  gray  gown,  hurried  past. 

1  Old  Man's  Beard. 


MANY   SORROWS  189 

"Well  you  speak,  indeed,  Dona  Rarnona," 
with  a  sigh  and  a  shake  of  the  head.  "  Ay ! 
these  Americanas,  these  Americanas  ! ' 

Mary  heeded  neither  criticism  nor  answer, 
saw  neither  the  flowers  nor  the  birds  she 
loved  so  passionately ;  she  flew  over  the 
ground  with  bent  head  and  clenched  hands, 
intent  only  upon  reaching  a  sheltered  spot 
on  the  green  hillside  where  she  might  sob 
her  heart  out,  safe  from  prying  eyes  and 
curious  ears. 

The  house  that  had  been  her  home  for 
nearly  five  months  was  closed  and  silent 
now,  for  her  greatest  fear  had  at  last  been 
realized,  and  the  heavy  wagon,  bearing  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Vazquez  on  the  mining  trip,  had 
just  rumbled  through  the  Alameda.  A 
lodging  had  been  engaged  for  the  two  girls 
near  the  home  of  Lucina's  relative,  Mrs. 
Garcia,  who  had  managed  to  tuck  the  boys 
away  in  an  odd  corner,  and  had  gladly  wel 
comed  Mary  and  Lucina  to  her  family  table, 
although  she  could  not  accommodate  them 

O 

under  her  roof. 

After  the  last  good-bys,  when  Mary  had 
slipped  away  alone,  Lucina  had  repaired  to 
the  new  room,  accompanied  by  two  faithful 
vassals  from  the  school  bearing  "  Chuchule," 


190         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

the  pet  squirrel,  and  a  basket  of  oranges 
from  the  beloved  orchard. 

For  the  last  week  Mary  had  felt  like  the 
wretched  prisoner  of  olden  days  who  sees 
his  dungeon  walls  gradually  close  in  upon 
him,  and  last  evening,  as  she  had  tried  to 
sing  a  melody  of  Koschat's  to  her  guitar, 
she  had  felt  that  "  Verlassen,  verlfissen, 
verlassen  bin  i ! "  so  perfectly  expressed 
her  sad  plight  that  she  had  broken  down 
altogether  and  fled  to  her  room.  This  was 
the  only  time  her  defenses  had  given  way, 
however,  and  her  distress  even  then  was  so 
well  restrained  that  no  one  save  the  sympa 
thizing  Lucina  noticed  it  at  all. 

Mary  herself  felt  that  the  bitterness  of 
her  grief  at  losing  her  protectors  was  almost 
unjustifiable,  for  they  had  spared  no  pains 
to  ensure  her  approximate  comfort  and  ab 
solute  safety  in  their  absence,  the  revolution 
was  completely  over  and  Davila  established 
in  the  governor's  chair,  her  school  was  in 
good  condition,  and  her  health  left  nothing 
to  be  desired. 

Mrs.  Vazquez  felt  so  confident  that  she 
would  return  in  three  or  four  months  at 
latest,  she  was  so  sure  of  Mary's  courage 
and  devotion  to  her  work  and  so  proud  of 


MANY  SORROWS  191 

her  success,  that  the  prospective  absence 
seemed  to  her  rather  a  trifling  thing,  and 
she  did  not  suspect  for  a  moment  the  ago 
nies  the  girl  was  suffering. 

"  Oh,  I  know  it  all,  I  know  it  all,"  sobbed 
Mary,  prone  on  the  hillside,  her  head  in  the 
spring  grasses.  "  I  know  they  mean  to  corne 
back,  and  perhaps  they  will.  I  know  I  'm 
safe  and  nothing  will  happen.  It  is  n't  that; 
I  'm  not  afraid,  but,  oh,  I  am  so  homesick  I 
feel  as  if  I  could  n't  bear  it. 

"  While  4  Miss  Barbara '  was  here  there 
was  something  to  link  me  to  Glen  Ellen,  but 
now  I  'in  all  alone,  and,  oh,  dear  !  "  —  and  at 
this  new  thought  the  tears  flowed  faster  — 
"  there  is  n't  a  person  within  hundreds  of 
miles  who  ever  heard  of  me  a  few  months 
ago,  and  nobody  anywhere  to  speak  English 
with.  Oh,"  with  a  choking  sob,  "  I  feel 
as  if  Mexico  were  a  great  spider's  web,  and 
I  were  a  poor  fly  all  tangled  up  in  it,  never 
to  get  out." 

Unless  salt  water  is  injurious  to  vegeta 
tion,  there  must  have  been  an  unusual  num 
ber  of  flowers  later  in  the  season  on  the 
spot  where  Mary's  head  rested  that  morn 
ing,  but  the  fountain  of  tears  is  happily  not 
inexhaustible,  and  by  and  by  the  weeping 


192         UNDER  THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

Niobe  sat  up,  with  flushed  cheeks  and 
swollen  eyes,  and,  with  her  curly  head  a 
very  furze-bush  of  tangles,  looked  across 
the  valley  to  the  solemn  mountain  ranges. 
There  among  the  grasses,  with  her  hands 
clasped  about  her  knees,  she  took  counsel 
with  her  forces,  chided  herself  for  useless 
grieving  and  lack  of  courage,  and  drew 
afresh  upon  the  heavenly  stores  of  strength 
and  patience  ever  waiting  for  the  seeking 
heart.  Life  looked  gray,  it  must  be  con 
fessed,  and  duty's  path  a  rough  and  dusty 
one,  as  she  came  down  from  her  heights  and 
bathed  her  eyes  by  the  brookside,  but  she 
meant  to  tread  that  path,  turning  neither  to 
the  right  nor  to  the  left,  God  helping  her, 
so  long  as  her  life  should  last. 

With  pale  face  and  heavy  eyelids,  yet 
with  a  sweet  composure  in  the  lines  of  her 
mouth,  she  crossed  the  threshold  of  her  lodg 
ing. 

On  her  table  lay  a  package  of  card-board 
slips,  —  "  Daily  Thoughts  "  aunt  Ellen  had 
called  them  as  she  copied  and  arranged 
them  for  her  darling,  —  and  selecting  one 
of  these,  with  a  kiss  for  the  familiar,  grace 
ful  writing,  Mary  tucked  it  in  the  corner 
of  her  mirror,  where  every  morning  it  might 


MANY   SORROWS  .  193 

preach  a  little   sermon    to   its   audience   of 
one. 

©  jFrtenU,  ncuct  strike  sail  to  a  fear !  Come 
into  port  greatly  or  sail  toiti)  (0oU  tlje  seas. 

"  Nobody  can   think  it 's  a  '  pose,'  or  an 

affectation,"  thought  the  maiden  of  sorrows 

as  she  looked  at  the  text,  "  for  no  one  in  Ce- 

ritas  ever  heard  of  Emerson,  and  nobody," 

—  and  here  the  girlish  lip  quivered  a  little, 

-  "  nobody  but  me  knows  enough  English 

to  understand  it." 

"And  how  does  the  new  room  please 
you,  Mees  Meh-ree,  my  loved  one  ?  "  cried 
Lucina,  dancing  in  at  this  moment  with 
Chuchule  on  her  shoulder.  "  Is  it  not  a 
paradise,  —  is  it  not  an  abode  for  the  blest  ? 
Did  one  ever  see  such  a  ceiling,  such  walls, 
and  such  a  floor  ?  Had  not  my  cousin  so 
long  a  family, — ten  little  ones;  saints  above, 
what  a  number !  —  you  would  have  been 
more  fitly  lodged  with  her." 

"  Oh,  this  does  very  well,  dear,  and  you 
know  there  was  n't  another  corner  in  town, 
anywhere  near  the  Garcias'  ;  but  it  is  a  re 
markable  apartment,  certainly,"  as  her  eye 
traveled  over  its  various  beauties. 

It  was  a  long  room,  brick-floored,  of  course, 


194         UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

but  the  bricks  so  worn  away  that  they  pre 
sented  a  series  of  mountain  peaks  with  ac 
companying  depressions  most  disconcerting 
to  the  unaccustomed  foot.  The  walls,  once 
white,  were  now  splotched  and  smeared  with 
brown  stains,  instantly  suggesting  murders 
and  suicides  to  the  fertile  imagination,  while 
the  old  cactus  ceiling  above  seemed  a  likely 
place  for  the  harboring  of  noxious  reptiles. 

Vicente,  with  a  boy's  inexplicable  delight 
in  feminine  squeamishness,  had  told  Mary 
a  story  not  long  before,  of  a  centipede  that 
once  dropped  from  an  old  cactus  thatch  in 
his  house  on  an  unsuspecting  sleeper  be 
neath,  and  as  his  hearer  found,  on  inquiry, 
that  the  incident  was  really  not  unheard  of, 
she  never  after  could  help  casting  anxious 
as  well  as  prayerful  glances  heavenward  as 
she  went  to  bed. 

There  were  no  gratings  in  their  window, 
only  the  ordinary  wooden  shutters ;  and  the 
two  doors,  one  opening  on  the  street,  the 
other  on  the  un walled  yard,  where  a  chained 
pig  raised  his  voice  in  lamentation,  both 
refused  to  close  securely,  unless  propped 
by  heavy  poles,  which,  wedged  against  the 
bricks  and  extending  far  into  the  floor, 
made  another  trap  for  the  unwary  foot. 


MANY  SORROWS  195 

The  wrinkled,  red-eyed  crone,  their  land 
lady,  had  allowed  them  the  use  of  a  small 
room  adjoining  for  the  storage  of  trunks, 
and  this  the  girls  had  promptly  christened 
"Araby  the  Blest,"  from  the  variety  of 
odors  that  always  seemed  to  linger  there. 

Lucina's  cot,  with  its  gay  calico  counter 
pane,  stood  at  one  end  of  the  main  room, 
Mary's  at  the  other,  and  they  had,  for  all 
remaining  furniture,  a  table,  a  washstand, 
and  one  chair.  Lucina  said  cheerfully  that 
it  was  more  or  less  a  custom  in  her  coun 
try  to  sit  on  the  floor,  and  that  she  rather 
liked  it,  for  her  part ;  and  that  people  who 
had  a  glass  candlestick,  three  feet  high,  and 
such  a  grand  picture  hanging  on  the  walls 
(this,  by  the  way,  was  Celia's  sketch  of 
Old  Maids'  Hall),  could  hardly  expect  any 
further  luxuries. 

Dear  Lucina ;  what  a  comfort  she  was  to 
Mary ;  how  full  of  tact,  how  sweet  and  sym 
pathizing,  how  interested  in  everything  that 
concerned  her  beloved  companion,  half  friend 
and  half  teacher ! 

The  girls  had  been  less  than  a  week  in 
their  new  quarters,  when  letters  came  from 
the  Masons,  saying  that  they  had  just  heard 
of  Mrs.  Vazquez's  departure,  and  begging 


196         UNDER  THE  CACTUS   FLAG 

Mary  not  to  stay  in  that  "  forsaken  coun 
try  "  a  moment  longer,  but  to  come  directly 
to  them  in  Tontin.  "  Don't  be  proud, 
child,"  wrote  Mrs.  Mason  ;  "  the  judge  and 
I  are  just  aching  for  you  ;  this  great  house 
seems  empty  as  a  vault  with  my  boy  away, 
and  if  you  must  be  independent,  I  'm  sure 
Rufus  can  get  something  for  you  to  do  by 
and  by." 

Mary  could  not  but  think,  as  she  read  the 
sweet  letter,  of  what  life  might  be  in  the  gay 
little  frontier  town  with  such  friends  and 
such  a  home,  but  she  put  the  temptation 
swiftly  away  with  an  unspoken  "  Retro, 
Satanas!" 

"  No,"  she  thought,  "  my  place  is  here  ;  I 
do  believe  now,  that  God  called  me  to  these 
children,  and  I  cannot  go,  I  will  not  go,  un 
less  something  unforeseen  should  happen  at 
home,  and  aunt  Ellen  should  really  need 
me.  —  But  I  don't  see  what  can  happen, 
unless  Celia  marries,  which  she 's  always 
said  was  most  unlikely,  so  I  shall  probably 
stay  just  here  to  the  end  of  the  chapter,  and 
teach  Lucina's  grandchildren." 

These  nebulous  little  persons,  be  it  spoken 
without  irreverence,  came  near  losing  their 


MANY   SORROWS  197 

prospective  hopes  of  existence  before  long, 
for  their  grandparent-to-be  complained  one 
morning  of  a  blinding  headache  and  pains 
in  her  limbs,  dragged  herself  home  from 
school  the  next  day  with  difficulty,  and 
finally  crept  into  bed,  assuring  Mrs.  Garcia 
and  the  anxious  Mary  that  she  would  be 
"  very  alleviated  in  the  morning." 

The  long  night  was  not  half  over  before 
the  watcher  at  her  side  felt  well  assured  that 
several  days  would  dawn  before  the  promised 
"  alleviation  "  could  be  hoped  for,  and  when 
the  school  bell  tolled  next  morning  the  little 
nurse  set  off  for  her  duties  with  a  heavy 
heart,  leaving  her  precious  charge  in  Mrs. 
Garcia' s  care. 

"  If  she  grows  worse,  what  shall  I  do  ?  " 
thought  Mary.  "There's  not  a  doctor  in 
town,  and  so  far  as  I  know,  not  one  in  the 
district.  It 's  fortunate  to-morrow  is  Satur 
day,  and  if  she  isn't  better  by  Sunday,  I  shall 
send  for  her  mother,  no  matter  what  they 
say.  Oh,  if  Mrs.  Vazquez  were  only  here,  or 
if  Mrs.  Garcia's  baby  were  n't  ill,  or  if  Don 
Raimundo  were  at  home,  or  if  anything  were 
not  as  it  is  !  My  dear,  dear  little  Lucina ! 
what  a  criss-cross  world  this  seems  to  be  !  " 

The    sensitive,  sympathetic   ones   among 


198          UNDER  THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

the  children  respected  her  anxiety  that  day 
and  were  phenomenally  good  ;  the  naughty 
ones,  on  the  contrary,  climbed  to  heights  of 
iniquity  never  reached  before,  and  Faustino, 
in  particular,  so  set  all  rules  at  defiance  that 
the  teacher  rose  in  her  chair  in  the  middle 
of  the  afternoon,  and  in  an  awful  voice, 
bade  him  go  home  and  tell  Mrs.  Garcia  he 
was  to  be  put  to  bed  at  once. 

This  thunderbolt  cleared  the  air,  and  mat 
ters  went  more  smoothly  till  the  hour  of 
release  arrived,  and  Mary  hurried  to  her 
lodging  to  find  Carmencita's  mother  in 
charge  of  the  patient,  the  Garcia  baby  being 
much  worse  that  afternoon.  Lucina,  too, 
was  decidedly  worse,  —  there  was  unfortu 
nately  no  doubt  about  that,  —  entirely  unre 
sponsive,  so  far,  to  the  simple  household 
remedies  they  had  tried,  burning  with  fever 
and  already  quite  delirious. 

That  was  a  black,  never-to-be-forgotten 
night  passed  at  her  bedside,  watching  the 
restless,  tossing  head,  holding  the  gourd  of 
water  to  the  parched  lips,  listening  to  the 
incoherent  babble,  the  snatches  of  song 
which  sounded  so  loud  in  the  quiet  night, 
and  hearing  with  aching  heart  the  plaintive 
calls  for  "  Maimi,  mi  mama." 


MANY  SORROWS  199 

The  candle  on  the  table  flickered  in  its 
tall  glass  shade,  the  bats  squeaked  in  the 
ceiling,  now  swooping  through  the  open  shut 
ters,  now  circling  round  Mary's  head,  and 
the  poor  little  nurse  felt  as  if  the  culmination 
of  her  sorrows  had  indeed  been  reached  with 
the  events  of  this  night.  Lucina's  illness 
seemed  to  her  inexperience  a  far  more  serious 
matter  than  it  really  was,  and  she  could  not 
help  the  darkest  foreboding,  as  she  thought 
how  rapidly  the  malady  had  developed. 

"  I  have  not  half  appreciated  the  darling," 
she  thought,  "  and  now  she  will  be  taken 
from  me.  She  has  been  so  good,  so  gentle, 
so  self-sacrificing,  so  thoughtful  of  me,  I 
could  n't  bear  my  life  here  without  her.  Oh, 
does  the  dear  Lord  need  her  as  much  as  I 
do?" 

"Dear  Father,"  she  whispered,  as  the 
gray  dawn  peeped  in  at  the  window,  "  wilt 
Thou  not,  in  Thy  mercy,  stretch  out  Thy 
compassionate  hand  and  heal  this  child  of 
Thine?  Let  me  not  be  left  altogether  deso 
late,  I  entreat  Thee.  Thou  hast  hosts  of 
angels  in  Thy  heavenly  kingdom ;  spare  to 
us  this  one,  only  this  little  one  !  Hear  my 
prayer,  O  Father ;  save  my  dear  Lucina, 
or,  if  she  must  be  taken,  let  me  bring  her 


200         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

mother  to  her  before  she  goes.  Hear  how 
she  calls  her  name.  Heavenly  Father,  listen, 
and  pity  her !  And  pity  me  too,  my  Father, 
O  my  Father  !  " 

She  was  still  kneeling  by  the  bedside,  her 
head  buried  in  the  pillow,  when  Vicente's 
voice  was  heard  at  the  window. 

44  How  is  my  sister  ?  "  he  whispered. 

44 1  do  not  know,  dear  boy.  I  am  not  wise 
enough  to  tell.  She  seems  quieter,  but  I 
want  you  to  borrow  a  horse  somewhere,  and 
go  to  the  ranch  as  fast  as  you  can  and  bring 
back  your  mother.  Lucina  keeps  calling 
for  her,  and  she  shall  have  her.  Go  at  once 
and  say  nothing  to  any  one.'' 

As  his  steps  were  heard  retreating  Mrs. 
Garcia  entered,  haggard  with  anxiety,  no 
less  for  Lucina  than  for  her  own  little  one  ; 
but  she  seemed  somewhat  reassured  at  sio-ht 

O 

of  the  patient,  and  delighted  to  find  that 
Mary  had  already  done  what  her  own  cares 
had  caused  her  to  forget,  and  sent  for  the 
mother  who  seemed  so  sorely  needed. 

It  was  an  anxious  morning  for  Mary,  for 
though  Lucina  really  seemed  better,  she  her 
self  was  completely  overwrought,  weighed 
down  with  responsibility,  and  exhausted  with 
two  nights'  watching. 


MANY  SORROWS  201 

She  could  have  cried  for  Joy  when  about 
noon  the  heavy  farm-wagon  rolled  up  to  the 
door,  and  a  matronly  figure  in  mourning- 
gown  and  shawl  climbed  quickly  down  and 
glided  into  the  room. 

"My  little  daughter?"  she  whispered, 
pale  with  anxiety,  and  flew  to  Lucina's 
corner,  where  she  sank  on  the  floor  by  the 
bedside. 

A  moment's  quiet,  a  few  touches  with 
experienced  hands,  and  she  turned  with  a 
soft  coo  of  joy,  and  tears  glittering  on  her 
lashes.  "  She  is  better,"  she  faltered.  "  See, 
she  sleeps,  and  her  brow  is  moist  and  cool. 
Come  here  to  me,  thou  angel,"  opening  her 
motherly  arms  to  Mary,  and  forgetting  the 
formal  "  you  "  in  her  emotion.  "  It  is  thou 
who  hast  tended  my  little  one.  Ah,  my 
Vicente  told  me  of  thy  goodness.  Thou  art 
one  of  mine  now,  from  this  day  forever. 
Come  here  to  me,  thou  precious  one  !  " 

It  was  not  many  days  later  when  Mary 
stood  in  her  doorway  one  morning,  watch 
ing  the  embarkation  of  Lucina  for  Ba- 
canuchi,  whither  she  was  going  to  com 
plete  her  convalescence.  There  was  cause 
for  great  joy  in  her  patient's  rapid  recovery, 


202         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

she  was  invited  ,to  the  ranch  herself  by  and 
by  and  was  to  take  her  first  vacation  for  the 
trip :  and  yet  there  was  a  heaviness  in  her 
spirits  that  seemed  to  have  no  adequate 
cause. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  me?"  she 
thought,  waving  good-by  to  the  travelers. 
"  It  must  be  because  the  room  looks  so 
empty  without  Lucina.  But  I  sha'n't  be 
lonely  with  faithful  little  Carmen  to  sleep 
here  every  night,  and  Tino  sticks  to  me  like 
a  burr  since  I  punished  him  that  dreadful 
afternoon  his  sister  was  so  ill.  ...  I  wonder 
if  all 's  well  at  home,  or  if  this  is  some  kind 
of  a  presentiment  that 's  weighing  me  down. 
Nonsense  !  Celia  used  to  say  my  presenti 
ments  were  like  boomerangs,  —  they  always 
shot  round  the  corner.  I  think  I  must  be 
tired  and  need  a  long  walk  after  school. 
I  'in  glad  it 's  letter  day :  that  '11  cheer  me 
up.  Now  of  course  I  shall  have  a  good 
home-packet  and  I  hope  I  shall  hear  from 
Jack  Martin,  —  he  hasn't  sent  me  a  book 
for  a  fortnight,  —  and  I  do  trust  there  '11  be 
a  letter  from  that  provoking  Elsie  Dixon." 

When  she  came  home  from  school  that 
afternoon,  Mrs.  Garcia  had  already  been  to 
the  post-office,  and  lying  on  her  pink  bed- 


MANY  SORROWS  203 

cover  was  a  goodly  array  of  missives.  .  .  . 
Yes,  there  was  a  fat  square  envelope  from 
Glen  Ellen  ;  the  long  looked-for  letter  from 
her  school  friend,  Elsie  Dixon ;  nothing,  oh, 
too  bad,  nothing  at  all  from  Jack,  —  and 
an  envelope  and  a  small  box  addressed  in 
Mrs.  Mason's  writing. 

The  home  budget  was  kissed  and  cuddled 
and  devoured  first ;  next  Elsie's  absurd 
scrawl  taken  up  ;  then  Mrs.  Mason's  note,  — 
for  it  seemed  only  a  note,  —  opened  slowly, 
while  she  still  laughed  over  Elsie's  nonsense, 
and,  .  .  .  what  was  this  ?  as  her  eyes  trav 
eled  swiftly  over  the  paper,  .  .  .  Oh,  bitter 
ending  to  a  heavy  day,  and  to  a  month  of 
sorrows.  ..."  Dear  Jack,  poor  Jack  !  " 
cried  out  the  girlish  voice,  and  the  letter 
rustled  to  the  floor. 

It  was  almost  dusk  when  Vicente  came  to 
the  door  and  called  her  to  the  evening  meal. 
She  was  sitting  at  the  table  writing,  but  he 
could  not  see  her  face. 

"Tell  Mrs.  Garcia  I  will  not  take  any 
supper,  please,  "Vicente,"  she  said,  without 
turning.  "  I  have  a  bad  headache  and  am 
going  to  bed  as  soon  as  I  finish  my  letters 
for  the  stage  to-morrow.  Take  Carmencita 
the  key,  will  you,  when  you  go,  and  ask  her 


204         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

not  to  speak  to  me  when  she  comes  in.  I 
may  be  asleep,  if  my  head  grows  better.  Say 
good-night  to  the  family.  No,  I  need  no 
thing  at  all,  thank  you,  little  one." 

It  was  long  before  the  letters  were  fin 
ished,  sealed,  and  stamped  that  night,  and 
when  at  last  Mary  rose  from  her  seat,  her 
face  was  pale  and  the  black  shadows  under 
her  eyes  spoke  of  both  physical  and  mental 
suffering.  With  a  heavy  sigh,  she  leaned 
on  her  window  shutters  and  looked  out  into 
the  night. 

"  Good  friend,  dear  boy,"  she  whispered, 
"  by  whatsoever  paths  you  fare,  may  God 
have  you  in  his  keeping !  " 

The  stage  clattered  gayly  by  next  morn 
ing,  and  in  the  mail-bag,  under  the  driver's 
seat,  lay  a  letter  addressed  in  rather  a  shaky 
hand  to  Mrs.  Bertram  Moore,  Glen  Ellen, 
Corona,  California. 

Oh,  dearest  aunt  Ellen,  [it  began,]  I  've  been 
heartbroken  this  afternoon  at  hearing  from  Mrs. 
Mason  of  poor  Jack  Martin's  death  last  week. 
He  had  a  severe  hemorrhage,  it  seems,  and  was 
ordered  up  to  the  Last  Chance  again  for  change 
of  air.  He  had  n't  been  there  a  week  before  he 
was  so  ill  that  the  judge  was  sent  for  to  take  him 
back,  and  he  died  at  their  house  in  Tontin  be- 


MANY  SORROWS  205 

fore  his  father  could  come.  Dear  Jack !  I  'm  so 
glad  he  had  Mrs.  Mason  with  him  at  the  last. 

She  writes  that  he  spoke  of  me  several  times, 
and  asked  her  to  send  me  a  locket  he  had  ordered 
for  my  birthday.  It  has  come,  and  it  is  lovely, 
though  I  don't  believe  I  could  have  taken  it  in 
his  lifetime,  for  I  'm  sure  it 's  a  costly  little 
thing.  It  is  gold,  in  the  shape  of  a  heart,  and 
has  one  of  the  agates  we  found  at  Yuma  set  in 
the  back,  and  a  bunch  of  forget-me-nots  in  blue 
enamel  on  the  front.  Inside  there  is  engraved 
"  From  Jack  to  Mary,"  and  below,  just  three 
words  and  the  date,  "  The  Tontin  Stage,  No 
vember,  18 — ." 

There  's  a  place  for  a  picture,  and  I  shall  put 
in  the  one  that  he  gave  me  on  the  journey, 
—  just  his  head,  so  bright  and  boyish-looking, 
with  his  cap  pushed  back  and  his  wavy  hair 
showing. 

It  seems  strange  that  he  had  "  Mary  "  on  the 
locket,  for  he  never  called  me  anything  but  Miss 
Annesley,  though  I  would  n't  have  cared  any 
way,  for  he  was  so  fragile  and  so  young  that  he 
seemed  almost  like  another  girl  to  me. 

There  's  a  slender  chain  with  the  locket,  and  I 
shall  always  wear  it  for  his  sake,  poor,  dear,  suf 
fering  boy !  He  was  so  sweet  and  good  to  me  on 
that  awful  journey,  and  I  felt  when  I  arrived  in 
Tontin  as  if  I  'd  known  him  all  my  life. 

My  eyes  are  swollen  so  that  I  can  hardly  see, 


206         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

with  crying  over  Mrs.  Mason's  letter  and  the 
locket.  I  'm  glad  Jack 's  with  his  mother,  now, 
—  he  missed  her  so ;  but  I  feel  as  if  everybody 
were  leaving  me,  first  Mrs.  Vazquez,  then  Lu- 
cina,  and  now  my  poor  Jack. 

Oh,  aunt  Ellen,  do  be  careful  of  yourself  and 
of  Celia.  I  am  weighted  with  sorrows,  and  feel 
as  if  I  could  n't  bear  another  straw.  I  '11  send 
my  journal  next  time. 

Ever  your  MARY. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

A     BEDQUILT     THERMOMETER     AND     OTHER 
MATTERS. 

"  THE  bed-cover  of  the  little  mistress  is 
on  the  pink  side,"  cried  Carmencita  joy 
fully,  peeping  in,  on  tiptoe,  at  Mary's  win 
dow.  % 

"  And  what  does  that  signify  to  thee, 
thou  stupid?"  growled  her  cousin,  Lauro 
Martinez,  who  was  in  his  usual  surly  mood. 

"  It  signifies  that  my  rose  of  Castile  is 
happy  to-day,  for  I  have  noted  that  when 
she  is  sad  it  is  the  brown  side  of  her  cover 
that  is  shown." 

"Ah,  thou  and  thy  rose  !  What  nonsense 
thou  dost  chatter !  "  and  Lauro  stalked  away 
to  school,  leaving  Carmen  waiting,  as  usual, 
on  the  corner  for  the  "  little  mistress." 

It  was  quite  true,  what  the  loving  eyes 
had  discovered,  for  Mary  had  a  whimsical 
fashion  of  changing  her  calico  bed-cover  ac 
cording  to  her  mood,  turning  it  on  the  pink 
side,  with  its  gay  roses  showing,  when  her 


208         UNDER  THE  CACTUS   FLAG 

mental  mercury  ran  high,  and  reversing  it 
to  the  sombre,  dark  brown  lining  when  the 
metal  dropped  to  freezing  point. 

The  devoted  fabric  had  whisked  about 
like  a  very  weathercock  of  late,  for  Mary, 
greatly  saddened  by  Jack  Martin's  sudden 
death,  was  therefore  unusually  disposed  to 
melancholy  thoughts  and  dark  forebodings, 
which  her  loneliness,  now  that  Mrs.  Vaz 
quez  and  Lucina  had  both  gone,  served  but 
to  increase. 

Greater  responsibilities,  too,  ngw  lay  upon 
her  shoulders,  for  in  Mr.  Vazquez's  absence 
she  was  obliged  to  assume  the  financial  man 
agement  of  the  school,  and  though  the  total 
sum  involved  each  month  was  but  a  small 
one,  yet  it  seemed  formidable  to  her  young 
eyes. 

To  pile  Pelion  upon  Ossa,  the  stage-drivers 
also,  or  those  in  authority  over  them,  had 
developed  of  late  a  tantalizing  habit  of  con 
fusing  the  mail-bags,  thus  sending  the  let 
ters  destined  for  Ceritas  to  Isleta,  and  vice 
versa.  Only  those  who,  alone  in  a  foreign 
country,  have  awaited  the  arrival  of  a  weekly 
post  can  realize  what  the  girl  endured  on 
those  luckless  days  when,  after  six  days' 
expectation,  she  breathlessly  pursued  the 


A  BEDQUILT  THERMOMETER       209 

stage  to  the  post-office,  only  to  find  alas ! 
that  the  Ceritas  bag  was  missing. 

It  was  then  that  the  bed-cover  was  rapidly 
shifted  to  the  dark-brown  side,  and  then 
that  Mary  always  turned  to  her  small  shelf 
of  books  and  took  down  Emerson's  essay  on 
"  Compensation,"  with  a  manful  attempt  to 
convince  herself  that  what  was  "  for  her  " 
would  "  gravitate  to  her  "  by  and  by,  and 
that  in  the  meantime  she  had  other  bless 
ings  to  offset  the  great  disappointment. 

To-day,  however,  the  calico  roses  were 
blossoming,  for  it  was  bright  spring  weather, 
the  sun  was  in  gay  and  gracious  mood,  there 
were  wild  flowers  innumerable  in  bloom  on 
the  hills  and  along  the  river-banks,  and 
Mary,  oh,  wonderful,  most  wonderful,  was 
invited  to  a  real  party  ! 

And  this  was  the  way  of  it.  It  was  the 
saint's  day  of  Carmen's  sister,  Alexandra, 
on  the  morrow,  and  as  such  anniversaries 
are  more  celebrated  than  birthdays  in 
Mexico,  she  was  to  have  a  surprise  party. 

Senor  Bandini's  six  young  lady  daugh 
ters  were  arranging  the  festivity,  and  they 
but  followed  the  universal  courtesy  to  the 
"  Americanita,"  as  they  called  her,  in  ask 
ing  her  to  make  one  of  the  company. 


210         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

It  was  to  be  a  morning  surprise  party 
("  who  ever  heard  of  such  a  thing  !  "  thought 
the  favored  guest,  as  she  received  the  invita 
tion),  and  a  very  early  morning  one  too. 
Such  festivals  are  called  "  Madrugadas  "  in 
Spanish,  a  word  which  might  perhaps  be 
translated  as  "  Dawn  Parties  "  in  this  con 
nection  ;  and  it  is  really  a  pretty  idea,  this  of 
heralding  the  morning  under  a  friend's  win 
dow,  on  the  day  of  her  especial  saint  and 
protector. 

"  Be  so  kind  as  to  be  ready  when  we  call 
for  you,  senorita,"  said  Ynez  Bandini,  on  the 
day  of  the  invitation,  as,  with  the  customary 
formal  embrace,  she  took  her  leave. 

"  Without  doubt,  senorita,  I  will  not  keep 
you  waiting.  Adios,  and  a  thousand  thanks 
for  your  goodness." 

There  was  much  cogitation  and  puzzled 
knitting  of  brows  that  day  as  to  what  toi 
let  could  possibly  be  made  to  serve  for 
the  occasion.  Obviously,  not  the  shrunken 
gray  gown,  which,  indeed,  was  now  past 
repair,  and  promised  to  the  washerwoman's 
eldest  hope  ;  obviously,  not  the  brown  tweed, 
which  was  far  too  warm  for  spring  in 
Sonora;  certainly  not  either  of  the  ging 
hams  which  aunt  Ellen  had  just  sent  for 


A   BEDQUILT  THERMOMETER       211 

school  wear,  and  even  more  certainly  not 
the  blue  and  white  print  which  she  had  toil 
somely  fashioned  for  herself. 

"  It  will  have  to  be  Celia's  old  white 
cashmere,"  thought  Mary,  "though  it's 
darned  in  five  places  and  not  as  clean  as  I 
could  wish.  I  suppose  I  '11  have  to  dress 
when  I  go  to  bed,  so  as  not  to  keep  them 
waiting,  and  sha'n't  I  be  well  wrinkled  when 
I  get  up !  " 

At  three  o'clock  the  next  morning,  she 
was  wakened  by  a  particularly  vicious  squeal 
from  her  landlady's  hungry  pig,  and  in  a 
moment  the  tinkle  of  guitars  and  harps 
began  in  the  street  outside,  while  Ynez  put 
her  head  in  at  the  window,  calling  gayly, 
"  Here  we  are.  Are  you  ready  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  —  I  'm  ready  —  soon  as  I  wake 
up,"  answered  Mary,  sleepily  rubbing  her 
eyes.  "  Wait  a  moment  and  I  '11  come." 

She  stumbled  to  her  dressing-table,  shook 
out  her  skirts,  put  her  curls  in  hasty  order, 
and  issued  into  the  darkness  with  a  merry 
greeting,  her  huge  door-key  under  her  arm. 

A  number  of  girls  and  matrons  and  as 
many  young  men,  most  of  whom  she  had 
never  seen,  were  waiting  without,  and  they 
all  hurried  off  to  the  Cavazos  mansion. 


212          UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

The  darkness  was  still  intense  and  the 
breath  of  the  dreaming  flowers  heavy  with 
dew,  as  they  reached  Alexandra's  window, 
and  it  seemed  to  Mary  like  a  scene  in  an 
opera  as  the  musicians  struck  up  a  lively 
air,  and  the  young  men  began  sending  off 
rockets  and  lighting  firecrackers. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  maiden  herself 
appeared  at  the  window,  fully  dressed  and 
apparently  not  in  the  least  surprised,  and 
smilingly  receiving  the  huzzas  and  greetings 
of  her  guests,  at  once  invited  them  within. 
They  were  hardly  seated  in  the  wooden 
chairs  set  so  primly  around  the  room,  when 
the  musicians,  throwing  back  their  sarapes 
and  smiling  behind  heavy  mustaches  at  the 
company,  glided  into  a  waltz  in  which  the 
rhythmic  beat  of  the  harp  followed,  and  sup 
ported  the  swift  melody  of  the  violin  and 
guitar.  The  tune  was  "  La  Media  Noche  " 
(Midnight)  and  its  cadence  was  so  alluring, 
its  time  so  perfect,  the  sway  of  the  players' 
figures  so  contagious,  that  any  one  would 
have  danced  whether  he  knew  how  or  not ; 
old  Don  Alberto  would  have  pirouetted  if 
he  had  been  there,  and  even  a  cripple  with 
two  wooden  legs  would  have  made  shift  to 
skip  about. 


A  BEDQUILT   THERMOMETER       213 

A  beardless  youth  with  no  collar,  and  a 
somewhat  disheveled  head,  who  had  been 
looking  at  the  Americanita  with  apparent 
approval,  asked  finally  for  the  honor  of  her 
hand  in  the  dance,  and  they  whirled  giddily 
about  the  brick  floor  among  the  other  waltz- 
ers,  round  and  round,  and  round  and  round, 
till  Mary,  at  least,  felt  like  a  bluebottle  fly 
on  a  hot  summer  afternoon. 

"You  would  dance  very  well,  senorita, 
with  a  little  more  practice,"  said  the  collar- 
less  youth  condescendingly,  as  he  seated 
her. 

"  In-deed !  "  soliloquized  the  maiden  with 
a  withering  glance.  "  I  suppose  you  thought 
because  I  objected  to  going  round  the  same 
way  all  the  morning,  that  I  did  n't  know 
how  to  dance.  I  wish,"  with  a  sigh,  "  Don 
Eaimundo  were  here  !  "  for  in  the  fortnight 
before  the  revolution  they  had  taken  many 
little  spins  together,  in  the  intervals  for  rest 
while  Lucina  was  learning  the  latest  fash 
ionable  steps. 

Dawn  had  peeped  in  at  the  window  dur 
ing  the  first  waltz  of  the  Madrugada,  and 
now  light  refreshments  were  served  and  the 
dancing  began  anew.  It  was  more  agree 
able,  thought  Mary,  to  look  on  than  to  par- 


214         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

ticipatc,  so  she  declined  a  second  invitation 
from  her  beardless  gallant,  and  watched 
with  sincerest  admiration  the  sway  of  the 
lithe  figures,  the  twinkle  of  the  arched  feet, 
and  the  peculiar  grace  of  motion  which  dis 
tinguishes  the  dancers  in  Spanish  countries 
everywhere. 

At  the  usual  breakfast  hour  they  were 
invited  to  the  dining-room  for  a  grand  re 
past  and  then  the  festival  was  over,  Mary 
hurrying  away  to  school  with  a  bewildered 
sensation  of  complete  uncertainty  as  to  either 
the  hour,  the  year,  or  the  season. 

She  was  worn  out  when  dusk  began  to 
fall,  with  the  interminable  length  of  the  day 
as  well  as  with  the  unusual  character  of  the 
festivities,  yet  she  felt  that  she  must  go  at 
least  as  far  as  the  river  to  watch  again,  with 
fascinated  eyes,  the  "No vena  de  la  Santa 
Cruz,"  1  which  came  to  an  end  that  evening. 
Night  after  night,  as  the  sun  sank  below 
the  Window  Mountain,  she  had  seen  groups 
of  women  gathering  in  the  narrow  Ceritas 
streets,  and  climbing  slowly  to  various  points 
on  the  high  hills  back  of  the  town.  The 
foremost  among  them  always  bore  a  table, 
others  a  large  cross  decorated  with  flowers, 

1  Nine  Days'  Worship  of  the  Holy  Cross. 


A  BEDQUILT  THERMOMETER       215 

others  still,  bouquets,  wreaths,  and  garlands 
of  blossoms. 

Toiling  painfully  to  the  top  of  the  high 
hill,  as,  the  watcher  thought  with  tear-filled 
eyes,  the  great  Cross-Bearer  himself  had 
done  so  long  ago,  they  cleared  a  place  for 
the  table,  set  the  holy  emblem  in  position, 
wreathed  it  with  blossoms,  and  fell  upon  their 
knees  in  adoration.  Each  evening,  as  their 
prayers,  in  a  high-pitched  monotone,  floated 
down  the  hillside,  and  as  the  chanting  be 
gan,  one  long  line  of  women  answering  the 
other  antiphonally,  Mary's  heart  throbbed 
with  responsive  devotion,  and  she  worshiped, 
too,  on  her  heap  of  stones  by  the  river-side. 

To-night  all  the  surrounding  hilltops 
were  crowned  with  groups  of  dark  figures, 
and  on  one  lofty  eminence,  the  highest  of 
all,  the  worshipers  had  built  a  fire  behind 
the  object  of  their  devotion,  and  knelt  about 
it  chanting.  The  brilliant  flames  against 
the  dusky  evening  sky,  the  wreaths  of  pale 
smoke,  the  arms  of  the  cross  showing  as  if 
sketched  in  charcoal  against  the  blaze,  gave 
a  weird,  mysterious  effect  to  the  scene,  and 
made  one  think  of  the  uncanny  rites  of  fire- 
worshipers,  rather  than  of  a  religious  ser 
vice  in  modern  Mexico. 


216         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

"  I  see,"  said  Mary  to  herself,  as  she 
sauntered  thoughtfully  homeward,  "  why 
they  worship  the  cross  on  the  hilltops,  —  it 
is  to  remember  Calvary ;  but  I  wonder  why 
the  service  is  held  just  at  this  season  of  the 
year." 

"  Dona  Panchita,"  she  asked,  dropping 
down  on  that  lady's  doorstep  for  a  moment's 
chat  as  she  passed,  "  why  do  they  fix  upon 
this  particular  time  for  the  Novena  de  la 
Santa  Cruz  ?  " 

Mrs.  Garcia  was  sitting  at  her  window 
with  one  of  her  ten  in  her  arms,  but  she 
turned  to  the  girl  with  a  sweet,  motherly 
smile. 

"  So  you  've  been  on  the  hills  again,"  she 
said.  "  I  could  not  go  to-night,  for  Cata- 
lina  does  not  seem  quite  well. 

"  How  can  it  be  that  you  should  not 
know  why  the  worship  is  held  at  this  time  ? 
Ah,  I  forgot,  you  have  not  the  happiness  to 
belong  to  the  true  faith.  Well,  I  will  tell 
you  gladly,  for  it  is  a  blessed  story  and  one 
that  all  should  know." 

"  The  date,  Mees  Mariquita  "  —  impres 
sively  —  "  was  adopted  by  Catholics  genera 
tions  ago,  to  commemorate  the  finding  of  the 
true  cross.  It  seems  that  the  special  piece 


A  BEDQUILT  THERMOMETER       217 

of  wood  on  which  the  Holy  One  was  cruci 
fied  was  lost,  or  perhaps  mislaid  among  the 
others  on  Mount  Calvary,  and  thus  great 
confusion  was  caused  and  much  sorrow  to 
the  hearts  of  the  faithful,  who  spared  no 
effort  to  bring  about  the  identification  of 
the  precious  relic.  It  came  to  pass  that  in 
the  midst  of  this  uncertainty  there  arose  a 
wonderful  clairvoyant  named  Elena,  who 
was  reported  to  be  particularly  gifted  in 
feats  of  identification  and  track  -  finding. 
To  Calvary,  the  faithful  conducted  this  wo 
man,  and  on  the  third  of  May,  be  the  date 
forever  sacred,  she  found  three  crosses  lying 
together,  which  she  ordered  thrown  upon  a 
fire,  explaining  that  they  were  those  of  the 
Christ  and  the  two  thieves  who  suffered  with 
him,  and  that  the  unsanctified  crosses  would 
be  consumed  while  the  holy  relic  itself  would 
suffer  no  change.  It  came  to  pass  as  she 
had  prophesied,  blessed  be  her  name,  and 
in  commemoration  of  her  wonderful  powers, 
she  was  canonized  after  her  death  as  '  Santa 
Elena,  la  Rastrera.'  " 

"Saint  Ellen,  the  Pathfinder,  —  that 
would  not  be  a  bad  name  for  my  dear  saint 
in  Corona,"  thought  Mary  as  she  strolled  to 
her  lodging.  —  "  Dear  me  !  "  stopping  sud- 


218      UNDP:R  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

denly,  "how  strange  and  how  very,  very 
pretty ! " 

Beside  the  barber's  house  across  the  way, 
a  kind  of  picturesque  white  tent  had  been 
set  up,  trimmed  inside  and  out  with  fresh 
green  branches.  Pink  tarlatan  curtains, 
edged  with  lace,  veiled  the  opening  of  the 
tent,  and  red  and  blue  ribbons  were  every 
where  festooned.  A  saint's  picture  hung  at 
the  back,  surrounded  by  rosy  clouds  of  the 
gauzy  fabric  looped  over  great  white  shells, 
while  in  front  of  the  picture  a  high  altar 
was  set,  draped  in  white  and  adorned  with 
burning  tapers,  flowers,  and  oranges. 

The  little  shelter  was  filled  with  kneeling 
women,  silently  praying,  and  the  soft  pink 
veil  that  hung  between  them  and  the  by 
standers  gave  the  whole  scene  the  effect  of 
a  rose-lighted  tableau. 

"  What  is  it,  oh,  what  is  it,  senora  ?  "  Mary 
whispered,  grasping  the  sleeve  of  a  black- 
robed  figure  gliding  under  the  curtains. 

The  person  addressed  turned  in  surprise, 
but  recognizing  the  Americanita  answered 
softly,  "  It  is  a  velorio,1  daughter,  the  devo 
tion  of  our  neighbor  to  her  saint.  We  pray 

1  Provincial   word  — a  "watch-night"  of   praise  and 
prayer. 


A  BEDQUILT  THERMOMETER       219 

with  her,  as  becomes  good  friends  and  good 
Christians." 

Little  Carmen,  who  was  waiting  at  the 
door  of  the  lodging,  gave  the  same  explana 
tion,  and  said  that  the  devotion  would  last 
through  the  night,  and  that  by  and  by  tez- 
giiin  (a  native  drink  made  of  fermented 
cracked  corn,  flavored,  spiced,  and  sweet 
ened)  would  be  served  to  all  the  worshipers. 

"  Was  it  not  most  beautiful,  Mees  Mari- 
quita?"  she  cried.  "I  could  have  re 
mained  there  all  the  night  looking  at  the 
flowers  and  the  lights  and  the  people.  Dona 
Alexandra  is  a  good  Christian  indeed  !  " 

Mary  agreed  that  it  was  beautiful,  and 
while  people  still  streamed  by  her  window, 
intent  on  seeing  the  velorio,  she  jotted  down 
for  her  home  journal  a  few  notes  of  the  two 
ceremonies  she  had  just  witnessed. 

"  Oh,  that  I  had  Celia's  talent  for  sketch 
ing  !  "  she  thought,  lingering  over  her  writ 
ing  ;  "  with  a  few  strokes  of  her  pencil  she 
could  give  an  idea  of  the  whole  lovely  scene, 
so  that  aunt  Ellen  could  tell  just  how  every 
thing  looked.  Ah,  well,  we  cannot  all  be 
so  gifted,"  with  a  sigh,  as  she  put  away  her 
notebook. 

Next  morning  dawned  and  there  was  no 


220         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

envy,  even  of  the  friendliest  kind,  of  any 
body's  gifts,  for  it  was  fair  and  sunny  and 
bewitching  as  ever  a  May  morning  could  be, 
and  as  it  was  Saturday,  she  had  promised  to 
go  with  all  the  school-girls  for  a  long  ram 
ble.  The  excursion  proved  to  be  all  that 
had  been  expected,  —  a  delightful,  old-time 
play-day,  whose  diversions  were  running 
races,  skipping  stones,  and  wading  in  the 
brook,  —  from  which  everybody  came  back 
at  noon,  warm  and  breathless,  laden  with 
great  bunches  of  wonderful  wild  flowers. 

Vicente  met  the  chief  reveller  at  her  door 
on  her  return  with  a  thin  package  about  a 
foot  square,  neatly  wrapped  in  brown  paper, 
and  addressed  as  usual  in  Celia's  hand  to 
Miss  Mary  Annesley,  in  care  of  Senor  Don 
Emilio  Vazquez. 

"  They  Ve  just  brought  a  bag  of  news 
papers  and  bundles  back  from  Isleta,"  the 
lad  explained.  "  It 's  the  mail  that  went 
astray  last  week,  but  the  letters  won't  be 
here  till  this  afternoon." 

Mary  untied  and  rolled  up  the  string  and 
folded  back  the  paper  with  careful  hands. 

"  Why,  what  in  the  world  "  —  she  cried, 
for  there  lay  an  exquisite  sketch  in  black 
and  white  of  the  Old  Maids'  Hall  of  the 


A  BEDQUILT  THERMOMETER       221 

future,  an  exact  copy  in  miniature  of  that 
magnificent  building  as  it  appeared  in  the 
painting  hanging  upon  her  dingy  walls. 

No,  not  an  exact  copy,  for  behold  all  the 
banners  in  this  second  picture  hung  mourn 
fully  at  half-mast ! 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha,  ha,"  laughed  Mary  merrily, 
startling  the  squeaking  bats  in  the  thatch, 
"  it 's  Celia's  way  of  announcing  that  one  of 
the  regiment  has  deserted.  How  awfully 
trying  that  I  can't  have  any  letters  till  this 
afternoon.  I  wonder  who  it  can  be  !  " 

"  O — h !  "  with  a  prolonged  breath,  as  a 
second  sketch  was  lifted  to  the  light,  "  my 
prophetic  soul!  is  this  intended  for  the 
4  princess '  ?  " 

In  the  centre  of  the  picture  stood  a  tall 
graceful  figure  in  a  trailing  gown,  whose 
right  hand  held  a  dainty  handkerchief  to 
her  blushing  cheeks,  while  the  other,  slightly 
extended,  bore  on  its  third  finger  a  mammoth 
solitaire  whose  rays  streamed  to  the  very 
edge  of  the  cardboard. 

It  was  undoubtedly  Celia,  although  the 
face  was  hidden.  The  pose  was  her  very 
own  ;  a  coronet,  —  this  touch  evidently  in 
memory  of  Mary's  pet  name  for  her  —  encir 
cled  her  sleek,  dark  head,  and  yes,  —  there 


222         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

was  something  written  in  microscopic  letters 
in  the  lower  left-hand  corner. 

Mary  carried  it  to  the  window  and  read, 
with  a  laugh  which  turned  into  a  sob,  and 
that  into  a  choke,  — 

"  If  you  Bit  in  the  chimney-corner  long;  enough,  your  Jonathan  '11 
come  to  you,  — that  s  what  aunt  Easter  used  to  say." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

BACANUCHI. 

"  HAPPINESS,"  mused  Mary  half  aloud, 
"  is  rather  like  a  spirit-level,  is  n't  it  ?  —  the 
least  change  of  base  sets  the  sensitive  liquid 
within  trembling,  wavering  to  and  fro." 

Don  Andres,  by  whose  side  she  was  seated 
in  the  great  farm-wagon,  glanced  at  her,  but 
respected  her  reverie,  as  well  as  the  foreign 
tongue,  and  Tino  and  Vicente  behind  con 
tinued  to  shout  in  deafening  duet  the  re 
frain  of  the  Mexican  national  hymn  :  — 

"  Y  retiemble  en  su  centre  la  tierra 
Al  sonoro  rugir  del  canon."  l 

"  You  will  both  tremble  to  your  centres 
in  about  two  minutes,  boys,"  growled  their 
uncle  good  -  humoredly,  "  if  you  keep  on 
screaming  like  Apaches  into  your  teacher's 
very  ear." 

A  week's  vacation  had  been  declared  in 
the  little  Ceritas  school,  and  Mary  with  her 

1  Let  the  earth  shake  again  to  its  centre 
At  the  sonorous  roar  of  thy  cannon. 


224         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

precious  guitar  and  a  number  of  dropsical 
bundles,  accompanied  by  the  boys  in  ob 
streperously  high  spirits,  was  nearing  the 
end  of  her  twenty-mile  drive  to  Bacanuchi. 

It  had  been  a  beautiful  road  they  had 
followed  through  a  fertile  and  beautiful 
country,  and  as  it  was  the  first  time  Mary 
had  left  Ceritas  since  she  arrived,  the  change 
had  proved  most  welcome. 

They  had  crossed  innumerable  clear  brooks 
and  running  streams  during  the  day,  passed 
countless  grain-fields,  just  turning  yellow, 
groves  of  splendid  cotton  woods,  and  every 
where  seen  cacti  of  every  size,  blazing  with 
their  gorgeous  purple,  red,  and  yellow  flow 
ers,  —  here,  the  tiny,  thorny  doll's  pincush 
ion,  just  peeping  above  ground,  there  the 
giant  sahuaro,  with  its  monster  arms  ex 
tended. 

They  had  traveled,  too,  through  half  a 
dozen  picturesque,  tumble-down  hamlets,  one 
in  particular  perched  on  a  cliff  like  a  Rhine 
village,  above  a  swift-flowing  river,  with  its 
little  church  on  a  steep  higher  still.  Goats 
had  peeped  over  the  summits  as  they  ap 
proached,  and  fuzzy  gray  donkeys,  laden 
with  skins  of  water,  balanced  each  side  their 
pack  saddles,  were  toiling  up  the  rocks,  their 


BACANUCHI  225 

dark  driver  turning  with  an  "  Avc  Maria, 
amigo,"  as  Don  Andres  rattled  by. 

"  Apaches  ?  "  cried  Mary,  breaking  sud 
denly  from  her  reverie.  "  Were  you  talking 
about  Apaches,  Don  Andres  ?  " 

"  Only  telling  the  boys  that  they  shouted 
like  the  red  devils,  seiiorita." 

"  Have  they  troubled  you  much  of  late 
years,  sir  ?  " 

"  No,  not  seriously ;  all  the  tribes  are 
quieter  now,  but  in  my  father's  time,  — 
Ay !  Dios ! "  with  an  expressive  gesture. 
"  Have  you  noted  the  heaps  of  stones  we 
have  passed  to-day?  Each  one  marks  the 
spot  where  some  brave  Indian  fighter  fell, 
senorita.  It  is  not  the  Apaches  alone  that 
have  ravaged  poor  Sonora,  but  the  Papagos 
also,  the  Ceris,  and  above  all,  the  Yaquis. 
You  have  heard  of  Cajeme,  the  famous 
Yaqui  chief  —  no  ?  Many  of  the  ranches 
have  Indian  names  in  this  region,  —  Cu- 
chuta,  Turicachi,  Bamori,  Basochuca,  Ba- 
canuchi.  Ba  means  water  in  the  Opata 
dialect,  you  know." 

"  Thou  wilt  tell  us  some  Indian  tales  when 
we  get  home,  wilt  thou  not,  little  uncle  ?  " 
cried  Tino,  with  a  choking  embrace  from 
behind. 


226         UNDER  THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

"  Let  me  go,  lad,  and  sit  down,  or  I  '11 
make  thee  walk  the  rest  of  the  way.  Watch 
now,  seuorita,  for  it  is  about  the  hour  that 
they  promised  to  meet  us." 

"Lucina  and  Dona  Rosita?  Oh,  how 
delightful ! " 

"  Yes,  and  your  friend,  Seiior  Altamirano, 
too.  He  is  just  from  the  mines,  and  brings 
letters  from  Emilio  and  Barbarita." 

"  Raimundo  !  "  exclaimed  the  boys,  while 
Mary  looked  her  pleasure.  "  Raimundo  ! 
Blessed  be  all  the  saints!  Now,  why  not 
have  told  us  before,  little  uncle  ?  " 

"  What  opportunity  have  I  had  to  tell 
thee  anything  with  thy  shouts  and  thy  cries 
and  thy  songs?  Besides,  I  have  an  idea 
that  he  wanted  to  surprise  some  of  you," 
with  a  side  glance  at  Mary.  "  Tumble 
down,  boys,  quickly  now,  there  they  are !  " 

The  little  group  indeed  appeared  at  this 
moment,  Lucina,  a  perfect  magnolia  blos 
som  in  her  white  gown,  running  toward 
the  wagon  with  cries  of  delight.  Doiia  Ro 
sita,  wrapped  in  her  inevitable  black  shawl, 
wisely  stood  still  to  receive  the  onslaught 
and  the  fierce  embraces  of  her  sons,  and 
Raimundo,  with  bared  head  and  radiant 
smile,  hastened  to  assist  Miss  Annesley  to 
alight. 


BACANUCHI  227 

"Oh,  Lucina,  thou  dear  one,  how  well 
thou  dost  look !  " 

"  Ay,  Mees  Mariquita  mia,  what  joy  to 
see  you  !  "  were  the  first  words  that  issued 
half  inaudible  from  the  close  embrace. 

"  Don't  you  dare  to  call  me  c  Miss '  any 
longer,  Lucina,"  whispered  Mary ;  "  we  're 
friends  now,  and  I  want  my  home  name 
here. 

"  Don  Raimundo,"  turning  with  extended 
hand  to  that  cavalier,  "  I  did  not  half  greet 
you  when  you  helped  me  down.  I  am  so 
glad  to  see  you  after  all  this  time.  You  are 
well?" 

"  In  perfect  health,  and  at  your  feet,  as 
always,  Mariquita,"  using  the  pretty  phrase 
with  the  native  grace  of  his  people. 

By  this  time  Mrs.  Mariscal  had  come  up, 
and  with  a  warm  embrace  repeated  Lucina' s 
welcome,  and,  as  the  wagon  had  rattled  along 
by  this  time,  they  all  set  off  down  the  hill, 
everybody  talking  at  once,  and  Faustino 
stopping  to  turn  occasional  somersaults  of 
joy,  followed  by  shrill  shrieks,  like  an  engine 
blowing  off  steam. 

The  ranch  house  lay  at  the  foot  of  the  hill, 

—  a  simple  place  enough,  but  beautifully  set 

in  a  soft  green  valley,  beside  an  immense 


228         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

cottonwoocl  that  spread  its  branches  over 
the  dwelling  beneath,  as  an  eagle  shadows 
its  nest.  A  white,  turbulent  brook  foamed 
along  a  few  rods  from  the  door,  the  fences 
everywhere  were  wreathed  with  blooming 
clematis,  and  over  the  entrance  was  a  porch 
of  rough  poles,  roofed  with  green  boughs, 
where  two  wood  doves  cooed  in  a  wicker 
cage. 

Mrs.  Mariscal  took  Mary  into  her  arms 
again  as  she  crossed  the  threshold. 

"  Welcome,  daughter  mine,"  she  cried, 
"  it  is  a  poor  place,  but  it  is  at  your 
orders." 

The  mud  walls  within  were  not  even 
whitewashed,  the  floors  were  of  earth,  but 
the  straw  mats,  or  esteras,  that  partially 
covered  them  were  fresh  and  dainty,  and 
everything  was  immaculately  clean. 

Mary's  room,  the  abode  of  honor,  was 
provided  with  a  grand  brass  bedstead,  and 
the  gratings  of  her  deeply  recessed  windows 
were  swept  by  the  soft  green  boughs  with 
out.  When  the  fortunate  guest  sank  to 
sleep  there  in  the  summer  evening,  she  felt 
as  if  her  load  of  cares  had  all  dropped  from 
her  shoulders  as  Christian's  did,  when  he 
came  up  with  the  cross,  and  to  the  lullaby 


BACANUCHI  229 

of  rustling  leaves  and  rippling  brook  she 
slept  as  she  had  not  done  since  her  protectors 
left  Ceritas. 

She  was  dreaming  that  she  was  a  wild 
flower  with  the  rain  softly  falling  on  her 
petals,  when  she  wakened  to  see  Lucina's 
mischievous  face  pressed  against  her  win 
dow-bars,  and  her  dripping  hands  just  about 
to  precipitate  another  shower. 

"  Awake,  you  little  sleeper, 
The  cuckoo  calls  you  loud." 

she  sang  in  her  careful  English. 

"I've  been  up  an  hour,"  dropping  into 
conversation,  "  and  here  's  a  great  olla l  of 
lovely  fresh  water  for  you  from  the  brook. 
May  I  bring  it  in  ?  " 

Oh,  how  sweet  it  was  to  bathe  in  the 
cool  water,  so  lately  from  the  stream  that  it 
seemed  still  dancing  and  rippling,  how  sweet 
was  the  June  air  blowing  in  her  window 
the  breath  of  leagues  of  grass  and  flowers, 
how  strange  and  tender  the  coo,  coo  of  the 
doves  in  the  porch,  how  delightful  to  feel 
herself  a  part  of  the  big,  merry,  affectionate 
household,  and  how  pleasant  to  be  again  the 
recipient  of  Raimundo's  graceful  courtesies. 

1  Earthen  jar. 


230         UNDER  THE  CACTUS   FLAG 

"  He  seems  positively  cheerful,"  thought 
Mary,  "  and  quite  young  and  boyish.  It 
would  hardly  be  appropriate  to  call  him 
the  Knight  of  the  Rueful  Countenance  any 
longer.  I  wonder  what 's  the  matter  with 
him.  It  must  be  the  country  air,  I  sup 
pose." 

"  Come,  my  Meh-ree,"  cried  Lucina,  after 
breakfast.  "  Come,  boys,  come,  Mamacita, 
come,  everybody  ;  we  are  going  out  to  see 
all  the  beauties  of  Bacanuchi." 

"Take  the  senorita  to  the  Indian  huts 
first,  Lucina,"  called  Raimundo,  who  was 
smoking  under  the  cottonwood. 

"The  ranch  is  worked  by  peones,  you 
know,  Mariquita,"  explained  Mrs.  Mariscal, 
as  they  set  out,  "  most  of  them  Yaquis  and 
all  of  them  Christians,  or  semi-Christians. 
Andres  has  them  live  a  little  below  here, 
across  the  brook  in  a  settlement  all  together, 
and  Raimundo  seems  to  want  you  to  see  it, 
though  I  don't  know  why,  for  there  's  no 
thing  interesting  about  it." 

Mary's  unaccustomed  eyes  were  delighted, 
however,  with  the  picturesque  scene  that 
greeted  them  as  they  neared  the  settlement. 
Dusky,  wrinkled  squaws  were  kneeling  by 
the  brook,  pounding  the  linen  of  the  great 


BACANUCHI  231 

house  on  smooth  stones,  the  bubbles  and 
lather  from  the  soap  floating  like  foam-bells 
in  the  smooth  pool  below ;  gray-skinned, 
hairless  dogs,  or  "  bichis,"  flew  barking  from 
the  huts  ;  a  quantity  of  fresh  meat,  hung  on 
ropes,  was  drying  in  the  sunshine  ;  dirty, 
half-naked  children  played  about  the  doors, 
and  several  young  girls,  with  greasy  black 
fringes  of  hair  hanging  to  their  eyebrows, 
were  busily  grinding  shelled  corn  in  hollow 
stone  vessels. 

"  That  stone  implement  they  hold  in  their 
hands  is  called  a  mano,  Mariquita,  and  the 
vessel  is  a  metate,"  said  Mrs.  Mariscal,  stop 
ping  to  look  at  them.  "  Now  they  will  boil 
that  corn  with  a  little  slaked  lime  in  the 
water,  wash  it  until  the  skin  comes  off,  and 
grind  it  on  the  metate  again  to  make  meal 
for  tortillas  de  maiz.  That  is  just  the  way 
I  have  it  done  at  the  house.  And  then  they 
cook  the  tortillas  on  an  earthen  dish,  or  a 
piece  of  iron  heated  over  the  blaze." 

"  Tortillas  de  maiz  very  good,"  grunted 
one  of  the  girls,  looking  up  from  her  la 
bors. 

"  It  seems  hard  enough  work  to  make 
them,"  commented  Mary,  "  they  ought  to 
be  good.  .  .  . 


232         UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

"Oh,  aren't  those  particularly  hideous 
little  dogs  !  Their  horrid  bare  skins  and 
the  few  hairs  cropping  out  here  and  there 
give  one  the  creeps." 

"They  are  very  much  prized,"  said  Lu- 
cina,  "  and  they  are  supposed,"  with  a  shiver 
of  repulsion,  "  to  be  a  sure  cure  for  con 
sumption  if  they  sleep  with  you  at  night.  I 
have  always  said  I  'd  rather  die  at  once,  for 
my  part.  Come  mama,  there  are  too  many 
dogs  and  babies  here.  Let  us  go  to  the 
orchards." 

The  Indian  huts  into  which  they  peeped 
here  and  there,  on  their  way  back,  were 
clean,  but  bare  of  furniture,  evidently  being 
regarded  as  shelters  only,  although  in  each 
one  was  a  picture  of  the  patron  saint  and 
several  smoothly  woven  petates.1 

"  The  Yaqui  wants  but  little  here  below. 
A  metate  and  a  petate  are  all  he  needs  to  set 
up  housekeeping,"  laughed  Raimundo,  who 
met  them  as  they  were  turning  into  the 
apricot  orchard.  "  Are  you  so  hungry  that 
you  must  have  fruit  or  die,  ladies  ?  for  Don 
Andres  is  going  up  the  canon  after  wood 
with  Azabache  and  Copeton,2  and  the  boys 

1  Mats  made  of  palm  fibre. 

2  Jet  and  Cropple  Crown. 


BACANUCHI  233 

want  you  to  come  and  ride  in  the  ox 
cart." 

"  Oh,  that  will  be  gay !  "  cried  Lucina, 
"  but  is  it  safe  for  Meh-ree,  do  you  think, 
the  oxen  are  so  wild?  " 

"  I  think  so.  Your  uncle  understands  the 
beasts,  and  I  will  go  to  manage  the  boys. 
I  '11  bring  them  all  back  safe,  Dona  Kosita, 
if  you  '11  let  them  go." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  you,  Raimundo.  Go 
in  peace,  children  !  "  with  a  wave  of  the 
hand. 

Azabache  and  Copeton,  small  wiry  little 
oxen  yoked  by  the  horns  and  driven  with 
a  crooked  stick,  sauntered  placidly  up  the 
canon  through  the  avenue  of  willows,  rather 
as  if  they  had  intended  going  there  any  way, 
than  as  if  obedient  to  their  master's  com 
mands  ;  and,  arrived  at  their  destination, 
while  the  cart  was  being  loaded  the  girls 
and  their  cavalier  rested  in  the  dappled 
shade  by  the  brookside. 

"You  have  not  said  a  word  to  me  yet 
about  my  cousin's  engagement,  Lucina," 
cried  Mary  suddenly,  as  they  munched  the 
piiiones  (pine-nuts)  with  which  their  pockets 
were  filled.  "  And  I  wrote  you  how  much 
I  wanted  sympathy.  It  was  such  a  dreadful 


234         UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

shock  and  surprise,  and  I  did  n't  get  my 
letters  of  explanation  for  hours  after  those 
pictures  came." 

"  Such  a  shock !  "  smiled  Lucina.  "  "Why 
mama  said  as  soon  as  I  read  her  your  letter 
that  she  'd  expected  it  from  the  first." 

"  Expected  it  ?  "  in  astonishment.  "  Why, 
how  could  she,  when  she  did  n't  know 
them?" 

"  Ah,  but  I  had  told  her  all  about  them, 
and  she  knew  your  cousin  was  young  and 
beautiful,  and  her  neighbor,"  —  this  in  a 
very  grown-up  tone,  —  "  young  and  wanting 
nothing  but  a  wife." 

"  That  is  n't  the  same  thing  as  getting 
one,"  commented  Raimundo.  "  How  is  this, 
Mariquita ;  has  the  lovely  cousin  you  so 
often  described  deserted  the  Sisterhood  of 
Spinsters  she  joined  so  formally,  and  will 
she  never  occupy  the  grand  mansion  you 
showed  me  ?  Ah,  what  a  grievous  breach 
of  faith !  Well  say  the  poets  that  women's 
promises  are  writ  in  water  ! " 

"  You  must  n't  laugh,  Don  Raimundo," 
with  a  frown  and  a  blush.  "  You  don't  know 
how  hard  it  has  been  for  me.  Just  think, 
I  never  even  saw  Mr.  Hunter,  the  man  she  's 
going  to  marry,  and  it  does  seem  so  impos- 


BACANUCHI  235 

sible  that  every  thought  of  her  life  now 
should  be  centred  in  this  perfect  stranger, 
or  one  who  was  a  perfect  stranger  a  year 
ago.  And  think  of  all  the  promises  and 
solemn  vows  she  made  me  never  to  marry ! 
Oh,  I  'm  jealous,  I  know  it,"  and  she  brushed 
away  a  tear,  "  but  I  try  to  overcome  it  and 
I  do  love  her  so." 

"  Pobrecita !  "  (poor  little  one)  murmured 
Raimundo,  and  Lucina  touched  her  hand 
with  a  swift  caress. 

"  It  upsets  all  my  future  plans,  too,"  plain 
tively,  "  and  the  great '  career  '  I  was  going  to 
have.  If  Celia  marries,  I  must  go  home  and 
take  care  of  my  aunt,  of  course,  and  though 
that  would  be  a  joy  as  well  as  a  duty,  it  will 
be  very  difficult  to  find  the  kind  of  work  I 
can  do  in  Corona.  I  wanted,"  half  laugh 
ing,  "  to  make  a  fortune  for  my  family  and 
take  it  with  me  in  doubloons  when  I  went 
back  to  California." 

"  Meh-ree !  "  gasped  Lucina,  turning  a 
little  pale,  "  you  are  not  thinking  of  leaving 
us?" 

"Mariquita,  you  are  not  really  going?" 
exclaimed  Raimundo. 

"  Oh,  no,  I  hope  not ;  certainly  not  at 
present,  anyway,  for  Celia  says  she  will 


236         UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

never  marry  until  my  aunt's  affairs  are  set 
tled  in  such  a  way  that  she  can  have  her 
home  free  of  encumbrance,  and  have  enough 
to  live  on  in  some  comfort." 

"  And  what  does  the  lover  say  to  that  ?  " 
asked  Raimundo,  with  a  smile  at  this  frank 
statement  of  family  affairs. 

"  He  wants  them  both,  and  me,  too,  to 
give  up  Glen  Ellen  and  come  to  him  this 
Christmas,  but  my  aunt  is  not  willing  to  do 
that,  and  neither  am  I,"  with  a  toss  of  her 
curly  head.  "  I  am  young  and  strong,  and 
I  can  work  for  both  of  us." 

"  Brave  little  woman ! "  murmured  Rai 
mundo,  "  you  deserve  " 

"  Lucina  !  Mees  Meh-ree  !  Raimundo  !  " 
shouted  Vicente  from  the  cart  at  this  junc 
ture.  "  Are  you  all  deaf  ?  I  Ve  been  call 
ing  you  for  five  minutes.  Uncle  is  ready 
and  Azabache  is  fretting  to  be  gone." 

The  girls,  protesting  that  they  had  only 
just  come  and  that  it  could  n't  be  nearly 
time  to  go  home,  scrambled  upon  the  wood 
as  best  they  could,  and  the  oxen  set  off, 
running  like  frolicsome  calves.  Not  a  vestige 
of  the  calmness  with  which  they  had  come 
up  the  canon  was  now  to  be  seen  ;  they  were 
agile,  headstrong,  reckless,  thinking  only  of 


BACANUCHI  237 

dinner,  deaf  to  their  drivers'  commands,  and 
heedless  of  the  shouts  of  Raimundo  and  the 
boys  who  ran  beside  them,  panting. 

They  had  crossed  the  brook  twenty-one 
times  coming  up  the  caiion,  as  Mary  had 
counted,  and  all  these  shallow  fords  had 
now  to  be  made  again,  with  the  disadvan 
tage  of  an  insecure  perch  on  a  shaky  load  of 
wood.  Mary  held  to  the  cart  on  one  side 
and  clutched  Lucina's  hand  on  the  other, 
half  frightened,  half  elated  by  the  swift  mo 
tion,  but  not  a  saint  remained  in  the  calen 
dar  upon  whose  protection  the  latter  maiden 
did  not  call  before  the  journey  was  accom 
plished. 

The  oxen  galloped  on  at  full  speed,  run 
ning  over  stumps  and  under  trees,  splash 
ing  through  pools,  knocking  off  Mary's 
hat,  tearing  Lucina's  reboso  from  her  head, 
racing  wildly  through  a  meadow  waving  with 
flowers,  crossing  with  breakneck  speed  the 
plain  in  front  of  the  house,  and  finally, 
with  a  last  explosion  of  energy,  dragged  the 
whole  load,  girls  and  all,  into  the  very  mid 
dle  of  the  stream,  where  they  stood  with 
heaving  flanks  and  drooping  heads. 

Raimundo,  breathless  and  laughing,  waded 


238  BACANUCHI 

in  after  them,  and  held  up  his  arms  to  carry 
the  disheveled  damsels  to  shore. 

"  I  have  heard  of  Europa's  ride  on  the 
white  bull,"  he  said,  "  but  this  was  like  to 
have  been  an  even  more  adventurous  jour 
ney." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

MOONLIGHT   AND   STORY-TELLING. 

IT  was  evening  at  Bacanuchi ;  a  yellow 
summer  moon  hung  halfway  up  the  hea 
vens;  the  ripples  of  the  brook  shone  like 
molten  silver ;  the  mocking-birds  fluted  and 
trilled  and  rhapsodized  over  in  the  orchard, 
and  from  the  Indian  huts  floated  a  quaver 
ing  song  that  thrilled  the  ear  with  its  strange 
beauty. 

"  Ay,  Manavei !  Ay,  Manavei  !  "  sang  the 
high  falsetto  voices,  the  last  notes  prolonged 
in  octave  until  the  sounds  fainted  and  died 
trembling  away.  It  was  a  "  testiguin  "  they 
were  crooning,  one  of  those  strange  minor 
melodies  half  song,  half  chant,  whose  ca 
dences  betray  an  alien  race,  an  alien  thought, 
and  breathe  a  heavy  unconscious  melan 
choly. 

The  family  was  gathered  on  the  grass 
in  the  warm  June  moonlight,  Don  Andres 
smoking,  and  the  boys  unwontedly  quiet, 
one  at  his  mother's  knee,  the  other  perched 


240         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

on  the  arm  of  his  uncle's  chair.  Lucina 
sat  on  the  ground,  with  her  head  on  Mary's 
knee ;  Raiinundo,  near  them,  idly  touched  the 
guitar  with  his  supple  fingers,  and  in  the 
background  crouched  one  or  two  of  the  house 
servants,  their  heads  as  usual  shrouded  in 
rebosos. 

"  Would  that  Emilio  and  Barbarita  were 
here  !  "  sighed  Doiia  Rosita. 

"  Would  they  were  !  "  echoed  Raiinundo, 
"  but  I  hardly  think  they  can  return  before 
August,  at  the  rate  they  are  traveling  now." 

"  I  wish  not  only  they,  but  every  one  I 
ever  knew,  could  have  been  at  Bacanuchi 
this  heavenly  week,"  cried  Mary  impetu 
ously.  "  How  my  aunt  and  cousin  would 
have  enjoyed  it !  and  Lucina,"  in  a  lowered 
tone,  "  I  always  think  when  I  hear  the 
peones  singing,  how  my  friend,  4  el  Seiior 
Jack,'  as  you  used  to  call  him,  would  have 
delighted  in  their  music.  He  was  perfectly 
fascinated  with  the  two  or  three  Spanish 
songs  we  heard  in  Tontin." 

"  Poor  boy,  may  he  rest  in  peace ! " 
breathed  Lucina  softly,  glancing  at  the  for 
get-me-not  locket,  as  it  shone  on  Mary's 
neck. 

A  little  silence  fell  upon  the  group,  though 


MOONLIGHT   AND   STORY-TELLING    241 

no  one  had  heard  the  half -whispered  words 
of  the  two  girls,  and  in  the  interval  the 
caged  doves  upon  the  wall  rustled  and  cooed 
a  soft  complaint. 

"  Sing  one  of  your  English  songs,  will 
you  not,  Mariquita  ? "  begged  Raimundo, 
handing  her  the  guitar  ;  "  sing  '  Annie 
Laurie,'  —  is  not  that  the  name  ?  " 

"  It  shall  be  a  duet,  then,"  answered  the 
girl.  "  Lucinita  knows  all  the  words  now. 
Sing,  dear  one,  with  me." 

As  the  last  "  I  'd  lay  me  down  and  die  " 
faded  into  the  air,  Mary  said  reflectively, 
fingering  the  Mexican  eagle  as  it  swung 
from  the  guitar  ribbons,  "  I  don't  seem  to 
care  as  much  as  I  used,  somehow,  about 
singing  in  English.  I  believe  I  'm  infatu 
ated  with  Spanish,  with  its  lilt,  its  musical 
cadence,  the  rise  and  fall  of  its  long  words, 
the  liquid  way  it  pours  out,  its  sonorous  syl 
lables  when  you  want  to  say  anything  mag 
nificent,  the  pretty  way  it  has  of  putting 
things,  its  tender  diminutives,  —  oh,  I  love 
them  all !  " 

"  That  is  a  charming  tribute  to  the  Cas- 
tilian,  seiiorita,"  said  Raimundo  with  an  ad 
miring  glance,  "  and  of  course  we  can  but 
think  it  well  deserved." 


242         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

"  It  is  the  most  beautiful  language  in  the 
world,  sir,"  cried  Don  Andres,  knocking  the 
ash  from  his  cigarrito,  and  thus  accidentally 
launched  upon  his  favorite  subject,  he  sailed 
off  with  tremendous  impetus. 

The  boys,  inwardly  restive  under  this,  to 
them,  extremely  abstract  conversation,  lis 
tened  with  respectful  gravity,  but  Tino  took 
advantage  of  the  first  pause  to  say  plain 
tively,  "  You  promised  to  tell  us  some  In 
dian  tales  before  we  went  back  to  school, 
little  uncle,  and  it  is  the  last  night." 

"  What?  Indian  tales?"  stopped  in  mid- 
career,  and  returning  with  difficulty  to  every 
day  matters.  "  So  I  did,  my  boy,  but  you 
know  all  mine  since  long  ago.  Ask  Rai- 
inundo  there,  his  men  in  the  mines  must 
have  told  him  mountains  of  them." 

"  Raimundo  shall  tell  afterwards,  if  he 
will,  but  first,  little  dear  uncle,  tell  about 
grandpapa  and  the  spider  web." 

"  Oh  yes,  oh  yes  !  the  spider  web  !  "  cried 
Vicente,  dancing  up  and  down.  "  I  had 
almost  forgotten  it." 

44  Well,  sit  down,  then,  boys.  I  cannot 
talk  unless  you  are  quiet.  It  is  a  story 
of  my  father's  youth,  seiiorita,"  turning  to 
Mary.  44  Rosita  here  has  often  heard  him 


MOONLIGHT  AND   STORY-TELLING    243 

tell  it,  and  knows  that  he  would  never  suffer  a 
spider  to  be  killed  anywhere  about  the  ranch. 
"  Listen  then,  little  sons,  and  hear  of  thy 
grandfather's  deliverance." 


THE    STORY   OF   THE   SPIDER   WEB. 

The  Yaquis,  you  know,  children,  are  phy 
sically  the  finest  Indians  that  we  have  in 
Sonora,  and  we  call  them  "  the  arms  of  the 
state."  They  are  good  farmers  and  miners, 
good  workers  in  every  way  when  they  are 
not  at  war  ;  and  in  other  days,  when  it  was 
the  custom  to  hire  them  to  convoy  the  silver 
trains  to  the  settlements,  they  always  kept 
their  contracts  honestly,  and  could  be  trusted 
to  beat  off  the  Apache  raiders,  for  they  are 
splendid  fighters,  as  we  have  good  reason  to 
know. 

They  were  early  Christianized,  in  the  ordi 
nary  sense  of  the  term,  and  I  am  not  sure 
but  that  the  government  would  have  had  less 
difficulty  with  them  in  times  past,  if  the 
meddlesome  ones  among  the  priests  had 
kept  their  hands  off  the  converts.  However, 
that  is  as  it  may  be ;  —  the  real  cause  of 
trouble  between  the  Mexicans  and  the 
Yaquis  from  the  first  has  been  the  rich  lands 


244         UNDER   THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

they  held  on  the  Yaqui  River.  The  Indians 
have  never  been  able  to  adjust  their  titles 
to  modern  law,  and  in  consequence  they  have 
always  had  to  fight  the  covetousness  of  their 
neighbors. 

The  regular  troops  have  been  sent  against 
them  on  many  occasions  and  been  beaten 
too,  sometimes,  though  they  have  often  suc 
ceeded  in  storming  their  adobe  forts  and 
capturing  their  leaders.  Cajeme,  their  fa 
mous  chief,  was  killed,  you  know,  while  try 
ing  to  escape  from  the  soldiers ;  but  still,  in 
spite  of  their  losses,  the  Yaquis  have  never 
been  subdued. 

Well,  one  season  many  years  ago,  the  tide 
of  battle  ran  against  them,  and  they  retreated 
before  the  troops  up  the  Yaqui  River  to  the 
desolate  Sierra  Madre  ranges,  where  they 
knew  every  rock  and  pass,  and  could  not  be 
dislodged. 

When  all  was  quiet  once  more,  when  the 
soldiers  had  departed,  and  their  lands  were 
all  occupied,  they  sallied  down  again  and 
drove  off  the  settlers,  and  then  spread  over 
the  country,  attacking  and  robbing  lonely 
hamlets  here  and  there,  probably  in  revenge 
for  their  wrongs. 

Among  other  places,  they  descended  upon 


MOONLIGHT  AND   STORY-TELLING    245 

Bacanuchi,  and  as  your  great-grandfather, 
luckily  enough,  was  not  at  home,  not  having 
heard  that  the  devils  had  risen,  they  met 
with  very  little  resistance.  My  grandmo 
ther  and  the  younger  children  were  warned 
in  time,  and  managed  to  escape  to  the  next 
ranch ;  so  the  redskins  got  what  they  really 
wanted,  which  was  horses  and  grain,  and 
made  off  with  their  booty. 

But  some  of  them  had  seen  my  father, 
who  had  been  guarding  the  horses,  —  a  lad 
of  sixteen  years  perhaps,  then,  —  running  up 
the  canon  like  the  wind  when  he  heard  their 
war  whoops.  There  was  no  time  for  pursuit 
at  the  moment,  but  when  all  was  over,  two 
or  three  of  the  braves  started  to  kill  or  cap 
ture  him,  fearing,  probably,  that  he  would 
spread  the  alarm  through  the  country. 
Doubtless  it  was  child's  play  for  them  to 
trace  him  with  a  lifetime  of  such  work  be 
hind  them,  though  the  poor  lad  had  doubled 
on  his  tracks,  waded  along  the  streams,  and 
tried  in  every  way  he  knew  to  deceive  them. 
They  followed  him  like  bloodhounds,  though, 
and  at  last  he  could  see  from  the  rocks, 
where  he  lay  panting  and  exhausted,  the 
ripple  that  ran  through  the  branches  as  they 
parted  them  below  in  the  valley. 


246         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

He  could  run  no  farther,  and  looking 
around  despairingly,  with  an  agonized 
prayer  for  deliverance  in  his  heart,  there, 
just  within  sight,  lay  a  great  hollow  log 
half  covered  with  grass  and  leaves.  It  was 
the  only  possible  refuge  and  seemed  a 
poor  one  enough  at  best,  but  he  forced  him 
self  into  the  opening,  heels  first,  lifting  the 
grasses  and  smoothing  the  earth  after  him 
as  well  as  he  could,  and  lay  there  with  the 
worms  and  the  wood-lice,  as  silent  as  they. 

Now  it  happened,  thanks  to  the  most 
Holy  Virgin  and  the  glorious  saints,  that  a 
spider  began  to  spin  her  blessed  web  over 
the  end  of  the  log  as  he  crouched  there,  trem 
bling,  and  when  it  was  finished,  a  passing 
shower  fell  and  filled  it  with  crystal  drops. 

The  Indians  came  along  in  due  time, 
swift  and  sure  on  their  noiseless  feet,  and  his 
track  having  mysteriously  disappeared,  as  it 
seemed,  they  sat  down  on  .that  very  log  to 
rest  a  bit. 

Doubtless  they  saw  the  spider  web,  and 
took  the  drops  glistening  upon  it  to  be  the 
morning  dew  not  yet  dried  away  in  that  cool 
retreat.  Whatever  they  may  have  thought, 
it  is  certain  that  they  never  suspected  they 
were  seated  almost  upon  the  body  of  their 


MOONLIGHT  AND   STORY-TELLING    247 

trembling  quarry,  so  after  a  time  they  made 
off  again,  and  at  nightfall  he  crawled  from 
his  shelter  and  thanked  his  God  for  the 
spider's  protection. 

"And  the  grandpapa  would  never  have 
a  spider  killed,  nor  a  web  touched  in  the 
house,  after  that  day,  boys,"  exclaimed  Dona 
Rosita.  "  When  it  came  to  my  sainted 
mother's  time,  if  she  desired  to  have  the 
rooms  cleaned,  she  must  attend  to  it  in  his 
absence." 

"  Ah,  that  was  a  good  story,"  sighed  Vi 
cente,  with  a  deep  breath  of  satisfaction. 
"  Now  more  Indians,  more  Indians,  Rai- 
mundo,  if  you  please." 

"  Shall  I  tell  thee  about  the  attack  the 
Apaches  once  made  on  the  Manzanas  sheep- 
ranch?  One  of  my  guides  gave  me  the 
story  while  we  were  riding  over  the  hills 
the  other  day." 

"  Oh,  yes,  an  Apache  tale,  they  are  al 
ways  good,"  cried  the  boys,  settling  them 
selves  in  expectant  attitudes. 

"  You  are  not  tired  of  Indians,  Mariquita  ? 
Very  well,  then,  I  '11  go  on  with  the  Moon 
light  Night's  Entertainment,"  said  Rai- 
mundo. 


248         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

THE   TALE   OF   THE   GRATEFUL    SQUAW. 

My  guide,  Don  Manuel  Maria  Torres, 
of  Tontin,  and  I  were  riding  near  the  ruins 
of  the  Manzanas  Mission  one  afternoon, 
when  we  came  upon  a  circular  inclosure 
about  twenty  feet  in  diameter  and  four  feet 
high,  with  only  one  large  opening,  that  ap 
parently  served  as  entrance.  The  wall  was 
made  up  of  massive  boulders,  and  here  and 
there  among  them  breaches  had  been  left, 
which  had  evidently  served  to  shoot  from 
while  protected  by  the  fortification. 

I  was  naturally  interested,  and  asked  Don 
Manuel  if  he  knew  when  and  for  what  pur 
pose  this  fort-like  inclosure  had  been  built. 

His  eyes  flashed  and  he  answered  quickly, 
"  I  know  what  it  was  used  for  once,  when  I 
received  what  came  near  being  my  death 
wound."  He  then  went  on  to  tell  me  —  he 
is  a  great  story-teller,  —  that  back  in  the  for 
ties,  when  the  country  belonged  to  Mexico, 
a  small  body  of  troops  under  the  command 
of  Don  Hilarion  Garcia,  a  famous  Indian 
fighter,  was  stationed  at  the  Tontin  presidio, 
and  was  chiefly  used  to  defend  the  settlers 
against  the  savages. 

The   Tumacacori  and    Manzanas    Indian 


MOONLIGHT  AND   STORY-TELLING    249 

missions  had  been  entirely  depopulated,  so 
he  said,  by  the  long-continued  raids  of  the 
Apaches,  and  their  lands  had  therefore  been 
granted  by  the  government  to  Don  Estevaii 
Carrillo,  who  had  established  a  large  sheep- 
ranch  thereon.  The  settlement  was  still  fre 
quently  descended  upon  by  the  tribe,  whose 
stronghold  was  the  neighboring  mountains, 
but  it  managed  to  hold  along  in  some  way ; 
and  the  herders  had  built,  besides  the  de 
fenses  at  Manzanas,  several  fortifications  on 
prominent  hills,  from  which  they  watched 
their  sheep  and  defended  them  from  ma 
rauding  bands  of  savages. 

Now  it  seems  that  Carrillo,  the  owner  of 
the  ranch,  was  a  kind  and  a  merciful  man, 
and  finding  one  day  on  the  hills,  as  he  rode 
among  his  sheep,  an  Apache  squaw  with  a 
papoose  by  her  side,  apparently  deserted 
by  her  tribe,  and  in  a  dying  condition,  he 
took  her  before  him  on  his  horse,  and  car 
ried  her  to  the  ranch. 

She  was  nursed  and  tended,  and  when  she 
recovered,  went  back  to  the  mountains  with 
her  child, — a  weakly  little  thing;  but  not 
until,  in  her  half-unintelligible  way,  she  had 
sworn  the  eternal  gratitude  of  Nashpevah  — 
that  was  her  name  —  to  the  whole  Carrillo 
family. 


250         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

Well,  one  cold  winter's  night  the  Tontin 
presidio  was  thrown  into  great  excitement 
by  the  sound  of  the  drum,  a  general  alarm 
which  summoned  all  able-bodied  men  to 
appear  at  the  garrison  armed  and  mounted. 
My  guide,  Senor  Torres,  was  one  of  those 
who  obeyed  the  call ;  and  upon  arriving, 
he  was  told  that  an  Apache  squaw  had 
just  arrived  from  the  Chiricahua  mountains, 
having  been  on  the  road  two  days  and  two 
nights  without  food ;  and  had  told  the  com 
mandant  that  the  day  before  she  left  the 
Indian  camp,  a  party  of  fifty  braves  had 
gone  on  the  war  path,  and  that  their  objec 
tive  point  was  Carrillo's  sheep -ranch  at 
Manzanas. 

It  was  found  upon  further  questioning 
that  the  ghastly,  haggard  creature  was  no 
other  than  Nashpevah,  the  squaw  whom 
Carrillo  had  befriended,  and  when  she  had 
told  her  story  she  sank  to  the  ground,  faint 
ing  with  exhaustion. 

Don  Hilarion  resolved  to  go  to  the  rescue 
of  the  ranch,  and  with  forty  of  his  best  men 
and  ten  of  the  bravest  neighbors,  among 
whom  was  my  guide,  he  started  that  same 
night,  riding  sixty-five  miles  by  early  dawn. 
Arrived  within  the  walls  at  Manzanas, 


MOONLIGHT  AND   STORY-TELLING    251 

Garcia  and  his  men  took  but  a  short  rest, 
and  swallowed  a  mouthful  of  breakfast,  for 
several  signal  fires  had  already  been  observed 
on  the  neighboring  hills,  and  an  attack  was 
expected  by  sunrise. 

It  fell  out  as  they  feared;  the  Apaches, 
shouting  that  terrible  war  whoop  of  theirs, 
fell  upon  the  ranch  early  in  the  morning,  but 
as  my  guide  graphically  remarked,  "  Vinie- 
ron  por  lana  y  salieron  trasquilados."  1 

They  descended  in  a  body  to  annihilate  a 
feeble  body  of  herders,  as  they  thought,  but 
thanks  to  the  message  of  the  grateful  squaw, 
they  were  greeted  instead  by  the  fire  of 
fifty  men. 

Seilor  Torres  said  that  the  braves  were 
actually  paralyzed  with  astonishment  for  a 
moment,  and  stood  wavering  under  the  ter 
rible  fire,  uncertain  what  to  do.  About 
twenty  of  them  were  shot  down  on  the  at 
tack,  twelve  more  on  the  pursuit,  and  six  of 
the  finest  warriors,  who  had  climbed  into  the 
stone  fortification,  fought  like  demons  till 
their  ammunition  was  exhausted,  when  — 
't  was  the  fortune  of  war,  boys,  we  must  all 
expect  it  —  they  were  captured  and  shot  on 
the  spot. 

1  "  They  came  for  wool  and  went  back  shorn  themselves." 


252         UNDER   THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

"  Brave  Nashpe  vah,"  cried  Mary.  "  Was  n't 
that  splendid!  I  wonder  what  became  of 
her  and  if  she  ever  went  back  to  her  tribe." 

"  Oh  no,  she  could  not  have  done  that," 
answered  Don  Andres.  "  She  would  know 
too  well  that  such  a  course  would  mean  in 
stant  death.  Her  child  had  probably  died, 
—  she  would  never  have  deserted  it,  that  is 
certain,  —  and  she  was  resolved  to  spend  her 
last  breath  in  the  service  of  those  who  had 
once  befriended  it  and  her." 

"  She  was  a  faithful  creature,"  said  Dona 
Rosita,  "no  matter  what  color  she  was,  and 
she  held  love  and  gratitude  above  the  claims 
of  blood  and  kindred." 

"  Oh,  tell  us  just  one  more  story,  Rai- 
mundo,"  pleaded  Lucina.  "  Tell  us  that 
about  4  One-eyed  Tutije,' — you  remember? 
You  heard  it  at  the  Mababi  ranch." 

"  No,"  said  her  mother  decidedly,  "  you 
hear  of  no  more  Indians  to-night,  either  one- 
eyed  or  two-eyed.  Look  at  Faustinito,  talk 
ing  of  eyes.  He  resembles  nothing  so  much 
as  a  horned  owl,  with  his  hair  standing  up 
straight  on  his  head.  Run  along,  my  chil 
dren.  You  have  a  long  drive  to  Ceritas 
to-morrow.  Good-night,  every  one  !  I  must 
look  after  my  little  ones.  Come,  Lucina !  " 


MOONLIGHT   AND   STORY-TELLING    253 

"  Good  -  night,"  said  Mary.  "I  shall 
never  forget  this  lovely  evening,  Doria 
Rosita,  nor  my  visit  to  this  dear  place.  .  .  . 
Ah,  the  moon  is  brighter  than  ever,  is  it 
not,  and  bed  seems  an  absurdity.  '  Must  we 
leave  thee,  Paradise  ? ' ' 

"  The  last  evening  we  talked  so  late  was 
at  your  window,  the  night  of  my  little  affair 
with  the  revolutionists,  do  you  remember, 
Mariquita?" 

"Remember?  Oh,  yes,  and  how  fright 
ened  I  was,  and  how  long  ago  it  seems !  .  .  . 
Yes,  yes,  I  'm  coming,  Lucina.  Good-night 
then,  Raimundo.  It  is  a  better  good-night 
than  that  last  one,  no  ?  " 

"  Better,  indeed.  Good-night,  little  friend. 
Sleep  sweetly." 

Mary's  light  step  crossed  the  threshold. 
She  was  gone,  and  the  Knight  of  the  Rueful 
Countenance  mused  in  the  moonlight,  while 
the  mocking  birds  still  fluted  in  the 
orchard. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

MIDSUMMER   DAYS. 

JUNE  clays  had  softly  slipped  away  and 
the  glory  of  midsummer  rested  on  Sonora. 
Everywhere  doves,  mocking  birds,  cardinals 
hung  in  their  cages  on  the  brown  walls,  coo 
ing  and  lilting  in  the  sunshine,  and  the 
landlady's  green  paroquet  shrieked  from 
morning  till  night,  "  Cafe,  mama  !  cafe, 
mama !  "  as  he  writhed  and  twisted  on  his 
perch.  The  red-winged  blackbirds  thronged 
the  cactus  fences  by  day,  singing  in  their 
rough  voices  a  melody  that  always  sounded 
to  Mary  like  a  passage  in  the  overture  to 
44  Lucia,"  and  at  evening,  music  was  heard 
from  harp  or  guitar  along  the  streets  and 
at  the  door  of  almost  every  humble  dwell 
ing. 

The  bats  squeaked  merrily  all  the  hours 
of  light  in  the  old  cactus  ceiling,  and  at 
dusk  swooped  in  clouds  through  open  win 
dow  and  door,  but  Mary  had  grown  some 
what  wonted  by  this  time  to  these  con- 


MIDSUMMER  DAYS  255 

stant  home  companions,  and  really  grieved 
when  occasionally  she  found  a  rash  victim 
of  thirst  drowned  in  her  earthen  water- 
pitcher. 

Fruit  and  vegetables  were  plenty  now,  a 
welcome  addition  to  the  simple  meals,  and 
as  the  girls  strolled  by  the  blank,  expres 
sionless  houses,  they  could  see  through  the 
arched  entrances,  their  great  doors  set  wide 
open  to  the  summer,  the  sunrise  flush  of 
tangled  sweet  peas  and  poppies  in  every 
bright  garden  beyond. 

The  long-expected  thunderstorms  had  be 
gun,  rolling,  crashing,  pealing,  almost  every 
afternoon,  and  torrents  of  rain  poured  down 
the  chimney  of  Mary's  room,  sweeping  out 
upon  the  floor  and  filling  every  hollow  be 
tween  the  worn  bricks,  so  that  the  laughing 
girls  had  frequently  to  leap  from  one  dry 
spot  to  another,  as  they  made  their  arduous 
progress  about  the  apartment. 

It  was  hot  in  the  lodging,  hotter  still  at 
Mrs.  Garcia's,  hottest  of  all  in  school,  and 
the  temperature  appeared  to  have  a  baleful 
effect  on  the  tempers  of  some  of  the  chil 
dren,  who  were  as  restless  as  eels  in  frying- 
pans  and  inclined  to  be  somewhat  captious 
and  irritable. 


25C         UNDER  THE  CACTUS   FLAG 

Nothing  at  all  has  happened  since  we  left 
Bacanuchi,  (Mary  had  written,  as  she  hrought 
her  home  journal  up  to  date,)  save  the  interest 
ing  proceedings  on  St.  John's  Day,  June  twenty- 
fourth,  and  I  Ve  meant  ever  since  to  tell  you  about 
them. 

It  seems  that  at  sunrise  on  that  date,  the  In 
dians  everywhere  in  Mexico  —  those  who  are 
Christians,  I  mean  —  take  from  their  chapels 
and  their  huts  such  images  as  they  possess  of  St. 
John  the  Baptist,  who  is  the  most  popular  saint 
among  them,  immerse  them  in  the  waters  of 
some  running  stream,  and  then  solemnly  bathe 
there  themselves,  taking  care  to  stand  directly 
in  the  current  of  the  sanctified  waters.  Padre 
Romero,  the  priest  here,  whom  I  asked  for  an 
explanation  of  the  custom,  said  that  the  bathers 
were  thus  supposed  to  be  rebaptized  each  year, 
or  cleansed  afresh  from  all  their  sins,  and  that  it 
was  really  a  most  beautiful  ceremony,  when,  as 
in  the  larger  villages,  crowds  of  Indians  holding 
the  blessed  images  came  in  chanting  procession 
to  the  streams. 

As  to  the  festivities  afterward,  the  priest 
could  give  no  explanation,  unless,  he  said,  they 
sprang  from  the  joy  of  the  soul,  all  whose  guilt 
had  been  washed  away.  I  thought  privately 
there  might  be  a  physical  as  well  as  a  spiritual 
reason  for  joy,  as  many  of  these  people  bathe 
only  once  in  the  year,  but  I  did  not  obtrude 


MIDSUMMER   DAYS  257 

so  unpoetic  an  explanation  on  the  reverend 
father. 

Well,  this  ceremony  was  only  the  beginning 
of  the  day,  and  of  course  I  did  n't  see  that  part 
at  all,  being  wrapped  in  heretic  slumbers.  Later 
on,  when  I  came  home  from  school,  —  for  we 
had  a  half-holiday,  —  the  streets  were  absolutely 
crowded  with  riders,  both  Indians  and  Mexicans, 
of  the  lower  classes,  and  this  is  what  I  wanted 
the  priest  to  explain,  —  what  horseback-riding 
has  to  do  with  St.  John.  I  never  heard  that  he 
had  any  connection  with  horses,  did  you  ? 

The  women  were  all  seated  in  front  of  the 
men,  — just  the  reverse  of  our  old  New  England 
custom,  you  see,  —  and  it  looked  very  picturesque, 
though  perhaps  a  trifle  affectionate  for  people 
who  are  so  over-particular  and  prudish  in  some 
other  respects. 

The  woman  sits  on  the  saddle,  sidewise  of 
course,  and  the  man  rides  behind  her  with  his 
right  arm  round  her  waist  and  his  left  over  her 
shoulder,  holding  the  reins.  The  Mexicans  were 
in  their  gayest  riding-dress,  wide  gray  and  black 
felt  hats  with  silver  cords  and  tassels,  short  em 
broidered  riding- jackets,  and  all  the  rest  of  the 
pretty  costume,  though  none  of  them  could  com 
pare  for  a  moment  with  the  beautiful  things  the 
K.  of  R.  C.  sometimes  wears. 

The  women  and  girls  were  dressed  as  usual, 
I  suppose,  for  nothing  could  be  seen  but  rebosos, 


258         UNDER  THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

but  what  chattering  and  laughing,  and  what 
gayety  there  was  in  the  narrow  streets  as  the 
horses  trotted  by ! 

Lucina  and  I  were  at  our  door  looking  out 
and  enjoying  it  all,  when  Don  Raimundo  drove 
by  with  the  white  horses  that  brought  me  here 
from  the  mill  when  I  first  came  ;  and  in  a  mo 
ment  Salomd  Garcia  came  running  over  to  say 
that  he  had  come  to  take  me  to  drive.  What 
fun,  I  thought,  though  it 's  odd  he  did  n't  call 
here  for  me  ;  and  I  caught  up  my  hat  and  flew, 
with  Lucina  at  my  heels. 

Arrived  at  Mrs.  Garcfa's,  I  found  that  the 
way  Don  Quixote  takes  Dulcinea  to  drive  in 
Mexico  is  to  invite  her  whole  family,  so  we 
packed  in,  all  of  us,  Lucina,  and  Salome*,  and 
Mrs.  Garcia,  and  at  least  three  of  the  babies. 
We  had  a  charming  time,  though,  and  Don  Rai 
mundo  was  as  nice  as  he  could  be,  and  let  me 
drive  all  the  way.  Ladies  never  drive,  you  know, 
in  this  country,  so  everybody  we  met  stared  as 
if  I  'd  been  walking  the  tight-rope. 

Raimundo  has  been  at  the  mines  since  I  saw 
him,  and  has  met  Mr.  Vazquez,  and  they  cannot 
return  before  the  last  of  August,  it  seems.  Of 
course,  it  is  n't  so  bad  now  that  I  'm  somewhat 
used  to  the  loneliness,  and  everybody  is  very 
kind,  but  oh,  for  a  good  long  English  talk  with 
"  Miss  Barbara  "  once  more  ! 

The  K.  of  R.  C.  stayed  to  supper  after  our 


MIDSUMMER  DAYS  259 

drive,  and  we  had  frijoles  cooked  with  Chili  pep 
per,  and  stewed  cheese  with  a  thin,  hot  sauce 
poured  over  it,  and  dried-meat  broth  and  tamales, 
and  all  kinds  of  magnificence,  and  as  I  had  a 
slight  headache,  Mrs.  Garcia  ordered  tea  made 
for  me  with  stick  cinnamon  steeped  in  it.  No 
body  drinks  tea  here  except  as  medicine,  you 
know. 

You  will  think  the  description  of  the  day  is 
never  going  to  end,  dear  people,  but  there  's 
more  of  it  still.  There  was  a  grand  ball  in  the 
evening,  and  we  all  went  to  look  on  for  a  while, 
—  no,  not  quite  all,  this  time,  for  the  babies  were 
put  to  bed,  and  Lucina  and  Salome'  stayed  at 
home  to  study. 

It  was  such  a  curious  ballroom ;  I  wish  you 
could  have  seen  it,  Celia,  lighted  by  flaring  candles 
set  high  up  on  the  walls,  the  musicians  all  wrapped 
in  sarapes  and  playing  with  their  hats  on,  and 
half  the  men  smoking,  among  the  lookers-on 
around  the  room.  There  were  two  sentinels,  with 
long  shining  rifles,  stationed  at  each  door,  —  I  'm 
sure  I  don't  know  why,  unless  they  're  always 
expecting  a  revolution  in  this  country,  or  unless 
everybody  is  so  wild  to  dance  that  they  have  to 
keep  unbidden  guests  away  by  force  of  arms. 

Ah,  yes,  and  there  was  one  thing  more,  and 
such  a  pretty  thing,  the  "  Cascarones." 

These  are  eggshells  filled  with  silver  and  gold 
tinsel,  and  bits  of  colored  paper,  and  the  gen- 


2GO         UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

tlemen  break  them  over  the  ladies'  heads  in  the 
dancing.  It 's  a  charming  custom,  and  the  bright, 
shining  particles  look  very  picturesque  glittering 
on  the  dark  hair,  but  it  took  me  at  least  three 
days  to  get  out  of  my  fuzzy  locks  the  "  cascaron  " 
Raimundo  broke  for  me. 

It  was  the  thin  closely  written  sheets 
containing  this  description  of  St.  John's 
Day  that  Mary  took  from  her  portfolio  this 
warm  July  afternoon,  and  while  Lucina 
drowsed  in  the  doorway  over  her  English 
lesson,  and  the  flies  danced  tarantellas  in 
the  still  heat,  she  read  it  over,  and  adding 
two  or  three  postscripts  in  girlish  fashion, 
prepared  it  for  the  next  day's  stage. 

It  was  true  that  nothing  had  happened 
since  they  left  the  ranch,  —  nothing,  that  is, 
save  the  tides  of  thought  and  feeling  that 
had  ebbed  and  flowed  in  the  little  pilgrim's 
heart. 

It  was  evident  enough,  as  she  stood  by 
the  table,  folding  and  sealing  her  letter, 
that  her  inner  life,  at  least,  had  been  event 
ful  since  she  left  her  home  nearly  a  year 
ago,  for  she  was  decidedly  thinner,  her  rosy 
tints  a  trifle  paler,  and  there  was  a  serious, 
thoughtful  look  in  the  deep  blue  eyes. 

In  these    midsummer  days  she  was  torn 


MIDSUMMER  DAYS  261 

day  and  night  by  opposing  feelings,  for 
Celia  had  written  that  her  "  Francis  "  was 
trying  to  negotiate  the  sale  of  the  mountain 
ranch  to  an  English  syndicate. 

And  if  he  should,  oh,  if  he  should,  Molliekin, 
(wrote  the  Princess,)  and  if  he  should  get  the 
price  he  's  trying  for,  it  would  straighten  every 
thing  out  and  leave  mother  comfortable. 

It's  almost  too  good  to  be  hoped  for,  but  if  it 
does  happen,  we  '11  wire  you  the  news,  no  matter 
if  they  have  to  send  a  mounted  messenger  with 
it  all  the  way  from  Tontin,  and  then !  !  then, 
you  dear,  patient,  precious,  hard-working  darling, 
you  will  pitch  your  clothes  into  your  trunk,  and 
ride,  RIDE,  RIDE,  for  your  life  and  Corona. 

Mary  had  trembled  to  her  finger-tips  as 
she  read  the  excited  note,  and  had  felt  as 
if  she  were  already  on  horseback,  gallop 
ing  home,  but  in  a  moment  had  come  the 
thought  of  her  children,  for  whom  she 
hoped  so  much.  Must  they  be  left  to  the 
dull  monotony  of  ignorant  lives,  with  no 
one  to  guide  them  up  the  steeps  of  know 
ledge?  .  .  .  And  yet,  on  the  other  hand, 
there  was  aunt  Ellen.  If  Celia  married, 
was  not  Mary's  first  and  highest  duty  to 
her  second  mother,  "  the  angel  of  her  infant 
life"?  .  .  .  True,  but  there  was  Lucina,  and 


262          UNDER   THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

—  and  other  friends  in  Sonora.  How  could 
she  leave  them  all  ?  .  .  .  Could  she  not,  — 
oh,  there  was  the  solution,  —  could  she  not 
come  back  again  and  persuade  aunt  Ellen  to 
come,  too,  for  a  while  ?  Now  that  she  knew 
the  drawbacks  of  living  down  here,  she  could 
bring  enough  from  home  to  make  even  a 
sick  person  comfortable,  and  the  change,  of 
course,  would  do  her  worlds  of  good.  Did  n't 
they  always  prescribe  change  of  scene  for 
invalids  ? 

"  Lucina,"  she  cried,  turning  to  the  door 
way,  "if  I  should  go  away,  how  wouldst 
thou  like  "  - 

"  Meh-ree,"  interrupted  Lucina,  "  I  will 
not  have  you  keep  saying  4  if  I  should  go 
away.  I  cannot  bear  it.  If  lightning  is 
going  to  strike  me,  I  don't  see  the  advantage 
of  being  told  of  it  beforehand.  I  'm  not 
going  to  talk  about  it,  I  'm  not  going  to 
think  about  it,  and  if  you  loved  me  a  single 
bit,"  pouting,  "you'd  stop  writing  those 
everlasting  letters,  and  let  me  speak  to  you 
once  in  a  while." 

"  Dear,  dear !  what  a  firebrand  it  is !  " 
cried  Mary,  running  to  the  door.  "  Come, 
then,  thou  little  spoiled  one,  what  dost  thou 
say  ?  Shall  we  go  to  the  vineyard  ?  " 


MIDSUMMER  DAYS  263 

Now  the  time,  as  the  Scripture  says,  "  was 
the  time  of  the  first  ripe  grapes,"  and  as 
they  were  unusually  luscious  that  season,  the 
favorite  walk  of  the  girls  was  in  their  direc 
tion. 

They  sallied  out  now,  hand  in  hand,  talk 
ing  and  laughing,  for  the  sun  of  youth 
shone  too  bright  to  be  long  clouded,  and  by 
and  by  "  they  came  unto  the  vineyard,"  and 
by  the  payment  of  a  medio  (two  cents  and 
a  half)  they  were  allowed  to  cut  as  many 
grapes  as  they  chose,  and,  having  forgotten 
their  basket,  they  hung  them  on  a  stick  and 
carried  the  burden  thus  between  them. 

"  We  look  just  like  the  spies  that  Moses 
sent  into  Canaan,  coming  back  from  the 
brook  Eshcol,"  laughed  Mary.  "There 
was  a  picture  of  it  I  always  used  to  like,  in 
our  old  Bible  at  home,  and  it  says  under 
neath,  4  They  cut  down  from  thence  a  branch 
with  one  cluster  of  grapes,  and  they  bare  it 
between  them  upon  a  staff.'  " 

"  It  must  have  been  a  very  fertile  coun 
try,"  commented  Lucina,  "  if  those  were 
wild  grapes.  Let  us  pass  my  cousin's  door, 
as  we  go  home,  shall  we  ?  and  give  the  chil 
dren  some  fruit,  and  then  we  can  see  if 
Panchita  will  take  us  to  the  Fiesta  to-night. 


264         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

You  know  you  never  have  seen  'la  gente 
baja' 1  dance,  and  I  know  you  would  enjoy 
it,  Mehree  of  my  heart." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Garcia  welcomed  the  idea 
of  going  to  the  Fiesta,  and  in  the  summer 
dusk  they  all  set  off  together,  Mary  bare 
headed  and  without  a  wrap,  and  Dona  Pan- 
chita  with  her  reboso  slightly  loosened,  as  a 
concession  to  the  extreme  heat. 

It  was  a  picturesque  sight  that  met  their 
eyes  as  they  turned  into  the  open  square 
where  the  Fiesta  was  in  progress.  In  the 
centre  stood  a  pavilion,  its  supports,  trees 
just  brought  from  the  woods  with  the  bark 
still  on,  and  its  roof,  green  boughs  that 
danced  with  the  thrill  of  the  dancing  below. 
All  about  the  square,  stalls,  lighted  by  can 
dles  with  their  star-like  points  of  flame,  were 
set  for  the  sale  of  cakes  and  sweetmeats,  and 
to  and  fro  among  them  moved  a  throng  of 
dark  figures. 

This  being  a  case  where  to  do  as  the 
Romans  do  is  the  highest  courtesy,  the 
Americanita  seated  herself  on  the  ground 
with  her  friends,  and,  eating  peanuts  and 
cactus  sweetmeats,  watched  with  admiration 
the  dancers  in  the  green  pavilion.  The  music 

1  The  common  people,  or  lower  orders. 


MIDSUMMER   DAYS  265 

was  decidedly  inferior,  merely  what  is  called 
a  "  rawhide  band "  in  Arizona,  but  the 
dancing  was  never  excelled  and  rarely 
equaled  by  the  trained  performers  of  any 
European  court.  There  was  complete  ab 
sence  of  ceremony,  —  "  Willy  had  his  Jane, 
and  Johnny  had  got  his  Joan,"  and  all  were 
"  tripping,  tripping,  tripping  up  and  down," 
with  the  beat  of  the  music  in  their  feet,  and 
the  keen,  savage  joy  of  rhythmic  motion  in 
their  veins. 

The  men  all  wore  the  white  cotton  blouse 
and  trousers  of  the  country,  in  every  stage 
of  dirt,  semi-dirt,  and  cleanliness ;  all  kept 
their  broad  -  brimmed  straw  hats  on,  and 
most  of  them  puffed  cigarritos  while  dan 
cing. 

Their  partners,  whom  they  beckoned  from 
the  crowd  of  women  with  bended  finger, 
exactly  as  one  does  in  "  Puss  in  the  Corner," 
were  gowned  as  usual  in  long,  trailing  cali 
coes,  some  of  which  were  soiled  and  greasy, 
just  as  they  came  from  the  kitchen.  There 
was  only  one  maiden  who  had  attempted 
adornment,  and  she  was  arrayed  in  a  yellow 
muslin  with  streamers  of  green  ribbon,  and 
wore  a  bunch  of  red  paper  roses  in  her  dark 
hair,  but  as  she  danced  no  better  than  the 


206         UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

Cinderellas,  she  seemed  to  receive  no  more 
attention  than  they. 

Waltzes,  polkas,  quadrilles,  and  "  danzas  " 
followed  each  other  in  rapid  succession  as 
they  watched,  and  in  none  of  the  dances  re 
quiring  concerted  action  was  a  single  direc 
tion  given,  the  performers  swinging  through 
the  various  elaborate  figures  with  perfect 
grace  and  ease,  and  as  serenely  as  the  stars 
move  in  their  long-accustomed  courses. 

"  It  is  perfectly  marvelous,"  said  Mary, 
at  the  end  of  the  evening,  yawning  a  little 
as  they  bade  adieu  to  the  Garcias  and 
turned  toward  their  room,  —  "  it  is  perfectly 
marvelous  how  thy  people  dance,  Lncinn; 
"  it  must  be  in  the  blood,  like  the  sing — 
Dear  me !  what  is  this  ?  "  stumbling  over  an 
obstruction  at  the  threshold. 

"  This  "  proved  to  be  the  washerwoman, 
seated  sphinx-like  and  immovable  on  the 
sidewalk,  her  bundle  of  clothes  by  her  side, 
apparently  resolved  to  wait  for  their  return 
until  morning,  if  necessary. 

"  Why,  seiiora,"  cried  Mary,  recognizing 
her,  "  did  I  hurt  you  ?  Why  in  the  world 
did  you  not  speak  ?  " 

"  I  believed  the  ladies  would  see  me,  and 


MIDSUMMER  DAYS  267 

I  did  not  desire  to  cry  out  rudely.  Since 
long  ago,  I  have  been  here  awaiting  them." 

"  But  it  was  absurd  to  stay  all  this  time," 
expostulated  Mary.  "  Why  did  you  not 
call  the  landlady,  or  go  away  and  come  back 
again  to-morrow  ?  It  is  not  worth  while  to 
be  so  patient,  senora,  —  Good-night,  then," 
—  receiving  the  bundle, —  "  Many  thanks." 

"  Lucina,"  said  the  girl  gravely,  as  she 
turned  the  heavy  key  in  the  door  and  wedged 
the  long  pole  in  place,  "  I  was  going  to  say, 
querida  mia,1  that  thy  people  excelled  all 
others  in  dancing,  but  I  am  not  sure,  on  the 
whole,  that  their  chief  accomplishment  is 
not  sitting  still  and  waiting." 

1  My  loved  one. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 
"ADIOS!  IIASTA  LA  VISTA! 


Mrfi—  v 


A  -  dios,    a  -  dios  !  Quien  sa  -  be  si  en    la     vi    - 


da,  Yauun-ca  mas      a    ver  - te  vol - ve  -  re? 


IT  was  a  September  dawn,  so  early  that 
the  great  oblong  of  the  open  window  hardly 
yet  glimmered  out  from  the  soft  darkness, 
but  early  as  it  was,  a  low,  continuous  mur 
mur  of  prayer  showed  that  Mary's  land 
lady,  "  Doiia  Madrugadita,"  l  as  the  neigh- 
ors  called  her,  was  already  kneeling  at  her 
beads  in  the  adjoining  room. 

Early  as  it  was,  too,  the  blue  eyes  of  her 
lodger  were  wide  and  wakeful,  as  they  had 
been  through  all  the  hours  of  the  night ;  for 
the  final  decision  had  been  made,  this  chap 
ter  of  life  was  closed,  and  the  hand  of  the 

1  Madam  Early  riser 


ADIOS  !  HASTA   LA  VISTA  269 

Recording  Angel  was  already  lifted  to  turn 
the  page. 

A  month  ago  the  wires  had  flashed  the 
news  of  the  momentous  sale  of  the  ranch, 
and  aunt  Ellen's  message,  "  Come  home,  my 
child,  at  once  !  "  and  it  spoke  well  for  the 
heroic  blood  of  Mary's  ancestors  that  she 
had  let  four  weeks  pass  by  while  she  found 
out  the  exact  condition  of  things  at  Glen 
Ellen,  assured  herself  that  Celia's  impend 
ing  marriage  rendered  her  presence  there 
absolutely  necessary,  and  made  such  ar 
rangements  as  were  in  her  power  for  the 
continuance  of  the  school  so  loved,  so  worked 
for,  and  so  appreciated. 

Mrs.  Mason,  who  had  been  in  New  Eng 
land  for  her  boy's  Commencement,  and  after 
a  round  of  family  visits  was  safely  at  home 
again,  openly  exulted  in  the  girl's  prospec 
tive  departure,  and  willingly  agreed  to  find 
in  Tontin  a  teacher  for  the  precious  school, 
since  that  was  the  absolute  condition  of 
Mary's  leaving. 

"  I  will  find  somebody,"  she  wrote,  "  buy 
somebody,  or  make  somebody,  if  necessary, 
so  long  as  I  can  set  you  on  the  way  to  your 
home  (which,  it  may  be  observed,  a  chick 
like  you  should  never  have  left),  and  get  a 


270         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

peep  at  you  en  route.  I  don't  expect  to 
secure  an  enchantress,  whom  the  children 
will  call  4  Adored  little  mistress,'  4  Rose  of 
Castile,'  and  '  Beloved  One,'  as  I  understand 
they  do  you,  you  witch,  but  I  know  I  can 
get  a  trusty,  sensible,  well-educated  woman, 
with  a  heart  for  her  work,  and  an  eye  to  the 
favorable  business  opening  down  there." 

She  had  been  as  good  as  her  word,  and 
Mrs.  Johnson,  a  grave,  sweet-faced  young 
widow,  bringing  sheaves  of  certificates  and 
recommendations  in  her  hands,  was  already 
established  in  temporary  lodgings  in  Ceritas, 
pending  the  arrival  of  the  Vazquez  family 
next  month. 

Her  only  drawback  seemed  to  be  her  com 
paratively  slight  knowledge  of  Spanish,  but 
Mary  reflected,  as  she  reviewed  the  situation 
for  the  last  time  this  morning,  that,  perhaps, 
this  was  not  so  much  of  a  drawback  after  all, 
now  that  the  children  were  well  advanced 
in  English,  and  that  it  might  prove  by  and 
by  to  be  a  virtue  rather  than  a  defect. 

As  the  familiar  objects  in  the  room  out 
lined  themselves  in  the  growing  light,  she 
rose  softly  on  her  elbow  to  see  if  Lucina 
were  awake.  No,  there  she  lay,  breathing 
softly,  her  lips  slightly  parted,  her  black 


ADIOS  !  HASTA  LA  VISTA  271 

lashes  a  crescent  of  shadow  on  her  creamy 
cheek,  and  her  long  braids  sweeping  the  pil 
low.  One  of  the  sharpest  pangs  of  parting 
had  been  providentially  averted  here,  for  if 
Mary  should  not  be  able  to  return  next 
spring,  as  she  now  fondly  hoped  to  do,  Dona 
Rosita  had  solemnly  promised  to  send  Lu- 
cina  on  a  long  visit  to  Corona  at  that  time, 
or  so  soon  as  suitable  escort  could  be  found. 

The  promise  had  been  as  balm  to  the 
girl's  yearning  heart,  and  since  then  she  had 
been  quiet  and  helpful,  —  now,  as  ever,  the 
most  faithful  of  friends  and  best  of  assist 
ants. 

"  Who  would  have  thought,"  mused  Mary, 
as  she  looked  around  with  a  laugh  and  a  sob 
mounting  together  in  her  throat,  "  that  this 
den  would  ever  have  grown  lovable  to  me, 
that  I  should  look  with  affection  on  these 
smeared  walls,  these  worm-eaten  beams,  and 
this  worn-out  floor,  and  that  I  should  posi 
tively  want  to  cry,  when  a  whiff  from 
4  Araby  the  Blest '  came  to  my  nose  ?  How 
strangely,  how  strangely,  we  are  made !  A 
year  ago,  I  was  half  breaking  my  heart  be 
cause  I  had  to  come  here,  and  now  the  poor 
heart  is  aching  so  that  I  can  hardly  bear  it 
because  I  must  go  to-day." 


272         UNDER   THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

The  sun  had  fairly  risen  now,  and  its 
golden  beams  shining  through  chink  of  door 
and  open  window  showed  the  traveler's  small 
trunk  all  corded  for  the  journey,  and  her 
guitar -case,  portmanteau,  and  wraps  lying 
beside  it.  The  humble  lodging  had  never 
boasted  many  adornments,  but  all  had  van 
ished  now,  the  wall-roll  with  its  illuminated 
texts  having  been  presented  to  Lucina,  as 
well  as  Celia's  painting  of  "  Old  Maids' 
Hall,"  whose  lofty  towers  gave  Mary  a  sharp 
pang  every  time  she  saw  them  under  the 
altered  condition  of  affairs. 

Poor  little  Carmen  Cavazos,  whose  suffer 
ings  under  the  approaching  departure  were 
really  painful  to  witness,  had  been  some 
what  consoled  by  the  gift  of  her  beloved's 
devotional  books  and  her  portfolio,  while 
Don  Raimundo,  dropping  in  one  evening 
with  Mrs.  Garcia,  had,  while  that  amiable 
lady's  back  was  turned,  quietly  pocketed 
everything  on  the  table.  It  was  not  alto 
gether  larceny,  for  he  had  given  an  inter 
rogative  glance  at  Mary  as  he  did  so,  and  she, 
half  touched,  half  laughing,  had  watched 
him  as  he  stowed  away  her  quill  pen,  her 
worn  copy  of  Emerson's  essays,  and  the  red 
Japanese  silk  scarf  that  had  so  long  adorned 


ADIOS!  HASTA   LA  VISTA  273 

her  hat.  The  exchange  might  have  been 
called  a  fair  one,  perhaps,  with  a  consider 
able  balance  on  Mary's  side,  for  the  books 
he  had  last  lent  her,  "Don  Quixote,"  Es- 
pronceda's  poems,  and  a  volume  of  Fer- 
nan  Caballero's  stories,  were  lying  in  her 
trunk,  with  his  full  name,  Raimundo  Alta- 
mirano  e  Ylarregui,  and  an  inimitable  flour 
ish  beneath,  written  in  every  one  of  them. 
He  had  refused  to  take  them  back  when 
they  were  proffered,  and  setting  her  name 
above  his  own,  had  said  in  his  extravagantly 
courteous  way  that  they  were  far  too  costly 
for  his  possession,  now  that  she  had  used 
them. 

She  was  pondering  all  these  things  in  her 
heart,  her  hand  shading  her  tired  eyes  from 
the  bright  sun,  when  one  of  his  shining 
arrows  suddenly  aroused  Lucina. 

"  A — y  !  "  sighed  the  girl,  stretching  her 
arms  above  her  head,  "  what  dreams  I  have 
had  and  with  what  a  heaviness  I  waken  ! 
It  is  the  day,  at  last,  is  it  not,  Meh-ree  dar 
ling  ? "  —  the  fond  word  in  English  now. 
"  Would  that  the  dawn  had  been  less 
prompt  to  come !  And  ah,  there  thou  hast 
another  packet  of  letters  under  the  door. 
Do  not  rise,  I  will  bring  them  to  thee." 


274         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

In  a  moment  she  dropped  the  letters  at 
Mary's  side,  —  a  half  dozen  of  them,  ad 
dressed,  some  in  round,  childish  hands, 
some  in  scrawling,  almost  babyish  letters, 
some  in  spider-like  chirography,  —  and  after 
one  of  her  impetuous,  bear-like  embraces 
proceeded  with  her  dressing,  glancing  ten 
derly  now  and  then,  as  she  moved  about  the 
room,  at  the  expressive  April  face  on  the 
white  pillow. 

The  letters  were  a  last  tribute  from  some 
of  the  disconsolate  children,  —  they  had  all 
written  her  at  least  a  dozen  apiece  since 
they  knew  of  her  departure,  —  and  she  had 
found  them  from  day  to  day  under  her 
pillow,  on  her  table,  slipped  under  the  door, 
lying  where  they  had  been  tossed  through 
the  window,  and  even  tucked  into  the  pocket 
of  her  school  dress.  So  sweet  they  were,  so 
tender,  so  youthful  in  sentiment,  and  yet 
couched  always  in  the  formal  Spanish  style 
that  seems  to  sit  so  heavily  on  childish 
shoulders. 

Her  naughty  boys,  Lauro  Martinez  and 
Pedro  Rosales,  had  each  written  a  pathetic, 
ill -spelled  note  this  morning,  supplicating 
that  she  would  forgive  the  evil  of  their  be 
havior  in  the  past ;  Delfina  Quiroga  sent  a 


ADIOS  !  HASTA  LA   VISTA  275 

tender  letter  beginning,  "  My  much  beloved 
and  appreciated  Miss  Mariquita  ;  "  Pascual 
Salazar  wrote  that  in  all  the  schools  he  had 
ever  attended  he  had  never  had  "  so  amiable, 
so  wise,  so  sympathetic,  nor  so  gracious  a 
teacher,"  and  that  she  could  "  never,  never 
be  forgotten  ;  "  Teresa  Caraveo  sent  an  ab 
solute  wail  of  despair  very  much  blotted, 
protesting  that  the  new  lady  could  never 
be  one  half  so  dear  nor  so  lovely  as  her 
"  adored  Miss  Mary,"  and  begging  for  a 
letter  from  her  that  she  might  "  treasure 
it  all  her  life,"  and  lastly,  here  was  another 
letter  —  certainly  the  twentieth  —  from  Car 
men  Cavazos. 

Mary  laughed  over  this,  then  choked,  and 
finally  broke  down  altogether  in  Lucina's 
encircling  arms,  sobbing  that  she  should 
never  have  the  courage  to  leave  Ceritas  if 
that  child  sent  her  another  line. 

It    was    written    in    scrawling,    irregular 

O  '  O 

characters,  with  a  deplorable  lack  of  capi 
tals  and  a  highly  original  system  of  punctu 
ation,  but  it  was  touching  enough  to  one 
who  knew  the  girl. 

MY  BELOVED  PRECEPTRESS  (it  ran),  — 

Since  the  hour  when  you  gave  me  the  sad 
notice  of  your  departure  my  heart  is  full  of  a 


276         UNDER  THE   CACTUS  FLAG 

just  sentiment  all  that  I  see  causes  me  sadness 
I  think  only  of  the  deplorable  day  you  must 
leave  us  and  of  how  brief  a  time  endured  the 
pleasure  of  your  amiable  company  ;  no  consola 
tion  remains  to  me  but  tears  though  I  do  not 
lose  the  precious  hope  of  seeing  you  again  as  you 
promised  :  God  be  thanked  that  I  may  have  this 
joy  now  that  I  have  no  longer  the  happiness  of 
learning  sweet  maxims  from  your  appreciated 
lips 

adored  Miss  Mary  do  not  forget  us  we  shall 
forever  be  sad  in  your  absence  I  can  never  for 
get  you  never  never  never  my  heart  will  always 
mourn  for  my  sweetest  and  dearest 

Receive  that  heart  full  of  sorrow  and  senti 
ment 

CARMEN  CAVAZOS 

Poor  Mary,  already  worn  out  with  the 
sorrows  of  parting,  was  tucking  these  last 
precious  letters  into  her  bag  when  Vicente 
and  Faustino,  hand  in  hand,  supporting 
each  other,  came,  solemn  as  mutes  at  a  fu 
neral,  to  call  her  to  breakfast.  Their  de 
meanor  was  so  unlike  anything  the  mercu 
rial  little  fellows  had  ever  displayed  before 
that  it  was  absolutely  startling,  and  Mary 
was  obliged  to  kneel  on  the  threshold,  and 
hugging  them  both,  cry,  "  Do,  dear  boys,  try 


ADIOS  !  HASTA  LA  VISTA  277 

to  cheer  up  a  bit!  You  are  breaking  my 
heart.  You  know  I  must  go,  but  I  will 
come  back,  I  will  indeed." 

"  Luckless  Mrs.  Johnson,"  she  thought, 
as  for  the  last  time  she  hurried  to  the  morn 
ing  meal ;  "  she  '11  suffer  next  week,  poor 
woman,  until  the  children  recover  a  little 
from  this  parting." 

Breakfast  dispatched,  she  bade  adieu  to 
kind  Mr.  Garcia,  to  the  servants,  and  to 
as  many  of  the  children  as  could  hastily 
be  collected,  and  then,  closely  shadowed  by 
Lucina  and  her  brothers,  and  escorted  by 
Dona  Panchita  and  the  two  older  children, 
she  returned  to  her  room  to  wait  for  the 
stage. 

"  It  is  strange  Raimundo  has  not  been 
here  this  morning,"  murmured  Dona  Pan 
chita,  pausing  in  the  doorway  as  she  looked 
up  and  down  the  street. 

"  No,"  answered  Mary  from  her  perch 
on  the  trunk  where  she  sat  surrounded  by 
children  ;  "  you  know  he  told  us  last  night 
that  he  does  not  believe  in  good-byes,  and," 
with  a  quiver  in  her  voice,  "  I  saw  him  at 
my  window  afterwards.  .  .  .  Oh,  is  that  the 
stage  so  soon?"  as  a  rattling  and  clattering 
was  heard  on  the  stony  street. 


278         UNDER  THE  CACTUS  FLAG 

It  was  indeed  that  vehicle  of  fate,  and  in 
all  its  trips  since  the  day  it  was  built,  it 
could  never  have  been  received  before  with 
such  a  concerted  and  unanimous  wail  of  sor 
row  as  burst  on  its  approach  from  every 
childish  throat  in  the  throng  about  the  door. 
The  rough  driver  looked  about  him  in  amaze 
ment  as  he  tossed  the  shabby  trunk  into 
place,  and  he  climbed  to  his  seat,  his  dark 
features  still  fixed  in  a  wondering  stare. 

"  Good-by,  dear  Doiia  Panchita,"  cried 
Mary,  falling  on  the  breast  of  that  weeping 
matron.  "  You  have  been  so  good  to  me. 
Good-by,  my  dearest,  darling,  dearest  little 
Lucina,"  emphasizing  each  word  with  tear 
ful  kisses,  "  we  shall  see  each  other  soon, 
you  know ;  good-by,  my  precious  children 
—  yes,  Miss  Mary  will  come  back,  she  will 
come  back  indeed.  Carmencita  mia,  do  not 
cry  so,  sweet  child  !  .  .  .  Yes,  you  may  bring 
the  guitar,  boys,  and  my  bag,"  and  she 
stumbled  up  the  steps  of  the  stage  and  fell 
into  her  seat  half-blinded  by  tears. 

The  driver  cracked  his  whip,  the  wheels 
began  to  turn,  when  "  Stop,  stop  !  "  cried 
all  the  children  at  once,  and  round  the 
corner,  at  full  speed,  came  Pedro  and  Lauro, 
the  two  naughty  boys,  bearing  between  them 


ADIOS !  HASTA  LA  VISTA  279 

an  immense  wicker  cage,  a  cardinal  bird  flut 
tering  behind  its  bars. 

"  It  is  for  you,"  they  cried  ;  "  it  is  for 
you  to  take  to  California,  and  do  forgive  us, 
dear  Mees  Meh-ree  !  " 

"Forgive  you!"  cried  the  girl,  now  a 
weeping  Niobe  indeed.  "  Why,  you  have 
been  as  good  as  angels  for  weeks  past. 
Thank  you  a  thousand  times,  dear  boys.  I 
shall  love  the  bird.  Good-by,  good-by." 

The  stage  rolled  away  with  its  solitary 
passenger,  for  the  La  Fleurs,  who  were  also 
going  to  Tontin,  were  not  to  be  taken  up 
until  the  mill  was  reached,  and  Mary  looked 
back  until  the  last  minute  to  catch  a  parting 
glimpse  of  Lucina,  to  wave  her  hand  to  the 
washerwoman,  to  old  Don  Alberto,  who  was 
taking  his  morning  constitutional,  to  Mrs. 
Johnson,  who  stood  at  her  window,  and  to 
the  priest,  who  chatted  on  a  corner  with 
Senor  Cavazos. 

"  It  is  all  over  at  last,"  she  thought,  as 
they  crossed  the  Alameda.  "  All  the  good 
byes  are  said  now,"  but  as  she  leaned  back 
exhausted  with  emotion,  there  was  a  glint 
of  silver,  a  rattle  of  spurs  and  chains,  a 
clatter  of  rapid  hoofs,  and  the  Knight  of 
the  Rueful  Countenance  reined  in  his  horse 
beside  her. 


280         UNDER  THE   CACTUS   FLAG 

"  Good-morning,  Mariquita,"  he  said,  with 
a  sweep  of  the  broad  gray  hat  with  its  sil 
ver  tassels.  "  I  am  come  to  escort  you  as 
far  as  Las  Flores,  with  your  permission." 

Mary  raised  her  small,  tear-stained  face 
to  the  grave  dark  eyes  looking  down  upon 
her.  "  Thank  you,  Raimundo,"  she  said, 
with  a  little  catch  in  her  breath,  "  I  shall 
be  very  glad,  —  I  am  so  tired,  and  sad  —  and 
lonely." 

"  Poor  little  one,  thou  hast  suffered  much, 
and  there  is  a  hard  journey  before  thee,"  he 
murmured  with  a  compassionate  glance.  "  I 
am  rejoiced  that  a  suitable  escort  is  pro 
vided  for  thee  from  Tontin,"  he  added,  seem 
ing  not  to  notice  that  he  had  dropped  the 
formal  "you"  in  these  last  phrases.  "  Now 
do  not  try  to  talk  ;  repose  thyself  for  a 
little." 

He  only  dropped  an  occasional  word  him 
self,  as  Favorito  cantered  along  by  the  rick 
ety  vehicle,  for  silence  was  always  golden 
with  SeKor  Don  Raimundo  Altamirano  e 
Ylarregui,  but  his  very  silence  had  some 
thing  soothing  about  it,  thought  Mary,  and 
an  atmosphere  of  comfort  and  protection 
seemed  to  radiate  from  his  presence  to-day 
as  she  recognized  with  a  quick  heart-throb 


ADIOS  !  HASTA  LA  VISTA  281 

what  the  soft  "  thou  "  meant  from  the  lips 
of  this  knight  of  hers. 

As  they  climbed  the  slope  to  the  mill, 
rustling  through  grasses  and  flowers  waving 
high  above  the  wheels,  Raimundo,  with  a 
word  of  command  to  the  driver,  suddenly 
reined  in  his  horse. 

"  I  must  go,  Mariquita,"  he  said  simply, 
as  he  bent  to  the  window. 

"  Good-by,  then,"  faltered  the  girl,  as  she 
shyly  gave  him  her  hand,  the  tears  rushing 
swift  again  into  the  blue  eyes. 

"  Not  good-by,  Mariquita,  —  that  is  not  a 
word  I  favor,"  he  murmured,  as  he  bent 
over  her  fingers.  "  Hasta  la  vista,1  let  us 
say  ;  that  suits  better  with  my  mood  and 
with  my  purpose,  sweetest  friend  of  mine. 
Hasta  la  vista,  pues,  hasta  "  —  Favorito  gave 
a  sudden  bound  as  the  spurs  touched  his  vel 
vet  flanks,  the  stage  creaked  on  up  the  hill, 
and  Mary,  leaning  out  into  the  sunshine, 
watched  the  stately  rider  galloping  back,  — 
galloping  back  into  his  country  as  she  rode 
forward  to  her  own. 

1  Au  revoir. 


ELECTROTYPEDAND  PRINTED 
BY  H.  O.    HOUGHTON    AND   CO. 


c  press 

CAMBRIDGE,  MASS.,  U.  S.  A. 


M317166 


